


Reign

by sassysas19119



Series: Regal [2]
Category: Big Bang (Band), EXO (Band)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassysas19119/pseuds/sassysas19119
Summary: "I've always known that my actions have consequences. I was raised on that; raised knowing that everything I did would be scrutinized, every tiny detail would be mercilessly inspected. I have always known that even the smallest mistakes are failures; and failures result in punishment."It’s a choice between what makes us happy now, today, and what will make our entire country happy in the future."But I made a choice, on that day, to turn away from that. I chose my own heart, over everything that I had ever known."His responsibility. He had done this willingly, knowing full well that he would have to accept the consequences for his choice."Was it worth it?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to Itsbiggerontheside, Lintu, and Oreolover05, whose comments on the first part of this series not only gave me some much-needed faith in my abilities as a writer, but also helped me to find the inspiration to buckle down and write. You three have helped me to rediscover a passion that I have had since I was 9 years old, and for that, I thank you, so very much.

_The country comes first._

The country had always come first. Jiyong didn’t know how many times he had heard that phrase, growing up, but it had been a lot, he knew that. Every time that he had spoken to his father, the phrase had come up somehow.

Thinking about his father hurt, more than he had expected it to, after six months. He hadn’t exactly been _happy_ , back in Kazir, but it had been home. It had been his life. He had, at the very least, known where he belonged.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Seunghyun enter the room. He heard Seunghyun cross the room slowly, heard the quiet rustling of him stripping out of his clothes, and then the mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled onto the bed. He wrapped an arm around Jiyong’s waist, pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “You asleep?”

“No.”

Seunghyun hummed softly, pulling Jiyong back into his chest gently. “Why not, baby doll? You should be sleeping.” Jiyong sniffed delicately, but didn’t speak, hand coming to rest on top of Seunghyun’s. “You need your sleep, my love. I don’t think you’ve slept through the night since we got here.”

“I can’t imagine why that might be.”

Seunghyun hummed quietly, then kissed Jiyong’s shoulder again. “Go to sleep, baby doll. I’ll be here.” Jiyong sighed quietly, then twisted in Seunghyun’s arms, to press his face into Seunghyun’s chest. “Oh, baby, it’s _okay_ , my poor little doll.” His fingers slid into Jiyong’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp. “You’re okay. You’re safe here.” Jiyong whimpered, choked out a soft sob. “Shh, it’s okay, I’ll protect you. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“We don’t belong here, honey.”

“I know, my love.” Seunghyun’s fingers were dragging gently up and down Jiyong’s back. “We’ll go soon. I promise.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Sure, baby doll.” Seunghyun kissed his forehead gently, then his mouth. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“Seunghyun, that was my whole life. My whole _life_ was in Kazir. Everything that I knew, everything that I had ever known, was in Kazir. I don’t… I—I—”

“Go ahead, baby doll, just let it out, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I _failed_ him.” Jiyong was clinging to Seunghyun’s body, face pressed into his neck. “He—Seunghyun, I _failed_ , I failed my _father_ , I—I was so fucking… _fuck_ , that was so _stupid_ of me, I—”

“Ji, _baby_ , look at me.” After a moment, Jiyong looked up, jaw clenching slightly. “Baby doll, you stopped that war. You saved so many lives. You saved _my_ life.” He raised a hand, to cradle his cheek gently. “You did what your heart told you to do.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I _know_ that your father is of the opinion that the country always has to come first. Trust me, baby doll, I heard that plenty.” Seunghyun’s fingers were gentle, a constant pressure against Jiyong’s jaw. “And I know that it hurt you, to tell your father no, to walk out of those doors and leave your life and your family behind, but Jiyong, he would have _killed_ you, maybe not literally, but I remember what you were like when I first met you.”

Jiyong remembered that, too. Remembered the person that he had been before. He had been the person that his father had wanted him to be. Cold and heartless and unnervingly still and confident and arrogant and _awful_ , things that Jiyong still found himself slipping back into on occasion, things that he hated. Those were the parts of himself that he _hated_ , the parts of him that he had gotten from his father, the things that he had _learned_ from his father.

Seunghyun was right. His father may not have literally killed him, if he had made the other choice – if he had sacrificed Seunghyun for the country, his husband for Kazir – but it would have pushed Jiyong irreversibly down a path that would have killed him emotionally.

And that had been exactly what his father had wanted. He had _wanted_ Jiyong to lose Seunghyun, because if Jiyong had lost Seunghyun, he would have become nothing more than a younger copy of his father. He finally would have been fit to rule Kazir, at least in his father’s eyes.

Because in the year that Jiyong had known Seunghyun, before he made _that choice_ , he had gone from being the cold and emotionless and calculating Crown Prince of Kazir, to being just… _Jiyong_. Seunghyun had done that, and every member of the Shadow Crown had known it, especially the King. And he had hated Seunghyun for it, had wanted to rip the two of them apart ever since he had seen the change.

He had thought that that would be the chance to do it. And he probably would have been right, except that Jiyong had seen the way that Zitao had looked at Yixing. He had seen the unyielding love and trust and loyalty between Sehun and Luhan. He had _seen_ the ferocity in Minseok’s eyes when Jiyong had put his hands on Jongdae. He had felt everything that they had felt, when he had seen Seunghyun pinned against Jongin’s chest.

“Jiyong.”

“Mm.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

A moment passed, then Jiyong sat up, gazing down at Seunghyun. “I’m glad that we did it. That we left.” Seunghyun nodded slowly, took Jiyong’s hands in his. “I don’t know _why_ it hurts so much.”

After a few seconds, Seunghyun sat up, pulling Jiyong into his lap a moment later. “Because that was your life. That was everything that you knew. And now it’s gone.” Jiyong made a quiet noise. “You don’t know how to be anything other than the Crown Prince of Kazir.”

“You’re right.”

“You can still learn.” Seunghyun kissed his forehead gently, then smiled. “You might be his son, but you don’t have to behave like him. You can just be you.” He ducked down to press a gentle kiss to Jiyong’s mouth. “And whoever you turn out to be, I’ll love you. I married you for _you_ , Ji. I didn’t marry you for him.”

Jiyong hummed quietly, then slipped a hand around to the back of Seunghyun’s neck, gripping tightly. “You mean that?”

“Yes, my love.” Jiyong nodded slowly, but Seunghyun could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe it. “Baby doll, I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t love you. I didn’t marry you because of your father, I didn’t marry you because you were the Crown Prince, I married you because I love you. And I’ll love you regardless of what happens.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“You loved me, even then?”

“Yes.” Jiyong frowned, and Seunghyun’s heart _ached_. “Baby doll, I knew even then that there was more to you what he had made you. I knew that there was a part of you that burned, quietly, every time that he hit you. I knew that there was a part of you that didn’t want to take the throne, a part of you want desperately wanted to tell him no. That was the first part of you that I fell in love with, and from there, I came to love the rest of you. All of you. There’s not a single part of you that I don’t love with all of my heart. You are the single greatest thing that has happened to me, and I’m never going to let you go.”

“You sure?”

“My love, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

A moment passed, then Jiyong nodded, pressing his face into Seunghyun’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Seunghyun kissed the top of Jiyong’s head. “You ready to go to sleep, now?”

“Yeah.”

***

When Jiyong dreamed, he dreamed of home.

_“Jiyong.”_

_He glanced up when he heard his father speak, found that the man hadn’t turned to face him, was still looking into the fireplace intently. Slowly, he rose to his feet and came to stand behind the chair opposite, trying to keep his posture as non-confrontational as possible. “Father?”_

_The King gestured for him to sit, and after a moment, Jiyong did, lowered himself delicately into the seat, eyes never leaving the man in front of him. It wouldn’t do well for him to let his guard down, not here. They sat in silence for a long time, the tension building with each second that passed. Eventually, the King turned his head, their gazes locking, and Jiyong couldn’t help but swallow, fear rising in his stomach. “I’ve been told that you and the new King of Valheria have been…seeing each other.” Jiyong’s blood went cold, and he had to fight to keep anger off of his face. It probably didn’t work. “Is that true?”_

_Jiyong exhaled slowly, squared his shoulders. “He was merely interested in how things have been in Kazir. He asked to speak with me about it. There was nothing more to it.”_

_The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of the King’s mouth as he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket. “That’s not how Jackson, or any of the other Kings, saw the situation.” He extended his hand, and Jiyong reached forward to take the paper out of his fingers slowly. “So, tell me, my son,” Jiyong looked up from the words on the paper quickly, eyes wide, “are you trying to start a war? Because if that was your goal, then I do believe you’ve nearly succeeded.”_

_Jiyong shook his head quickly. “It was…Father, nothing_ happened _. He’s_ married _, I wouldn’t try to start anything with a married man. I’m not stupid, I know what would have happened if I did something.” He paused, breathing heavily, eyes falling to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. He was curious. I figured I was the best one to answer his questions.”_

_“So you say.” Jiyong ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep from rolling his eyes. “Your mother has found you a suitable husband.” Jiyong inhaled sharply, jaw clenching as his father looked at the fire again. “He’s coming to visit tomorrow. He’ll stay for a week.” There was more to it, there was something he wasn’t saying. “And you’ll propose to him by the end of the week, or we’ll both be very disappointed in you.”_

_“Father—”_

_His father cut him off with a look. “Don’t argue with me. You need to get married.” Jiyong opened his mouth to say something, but the King cut him off. “And we both know you’ve blown through all of your suitors in Kazir.”_ More like blown all of my suitors in Kazir. _“You’ll be kind to him. Our family needs this marriage. You are our only son, the only one who can take control of the throne, and you need to get married before you can do that. You know these things.”_

_“I don’t want-”_

_“I don’t_ care _. You think I wanted to get married?” That was rhetorical. “Sometimes, my son, we have to do things that we don’t want to do, for the greater good.” After a moment, Jiyong nodded and rose to his feet, started towards the door. “And don’t forget, you have market negotiations with the merchant guilds tomorrow.”_

_“I’d never forget them, Father.”_

_He flinched when he heard the vase shatter against the wall, about a foot from where he was standing. His father had missed his head – probably intentionally. “Come back here.”_

Jiyong woke screaming.

He could feel Seunghyun’s hands on his waist, but he shoved him away, collapsing onto the bed a moment later. He choked out another sob, curling into a fetal position, fingernails dragging across his skin.

“Jiyong—” Seunghyun cut off when Jiyong sobbed again, then tried again. “—Jiyong, my love, I’m going to touch you, okay?” Jiyong didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push Seunghyun away when he pulled Jiyong into his lap. “Shh, my love, it’s okay. I’m here, now, I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Shh, baby doll, it’s okay, don’t be sorry, it’s _okay_.” Jiyong’s shoulders were still rigid with anxiety, his fingers gripping Seunghyun’s body tightly. “My love, you’re okay, you’re safe here. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

Jiyong exhaled in a loud gust, a soft whining noise in his throat. “Can I—Seunghyun, please, can I—” He cut off with a soft noise. “Please?”

“What do you want, love?”

“Want you. Inside me. Please.”

“Baby doll, you know that I hate saying no to you, but right now, my love, I think you need to sleep.” Jiyong whined softly. “Oh, _baby_ , I know, but I also know that you’re very emotional right now. You know how I feel about having sex with you while you’re… while you’re like this.” Another soft whine broke free of Jiyong’s throat. “Shh, shh, my love, let’s just go to sleep, okay? And in the morning, if you still want me to fuck you, I will. I promise.”

Jiyong was pouting at him, Seunghyun knew that. But he wasn’t going to argue, he never did, not about this. “Shh, baby doll, it’s okay. You sleep now, and when you wake up, I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.” After a few seconds, Jiyong nodded, wordless, and allowed Seunghyun to tug him back down onto the bed, still holding him against his chest. “Sleep now, my love. You’re safe here. I’ll protect you.” His arm wrapped around Jiyong’s waist, and as it did, his fingers brushed over the ridge of the scar that ran along his hip. Jiyong’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t move. “No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

“I love you.”

Seunghyun smiled, pressed a kiss to Jiyong’s temple. “I love you, too, Ji.” Jiyong smiled, wiggling slightly in place, before he stilled, relaxing into Seunghyun’s grip.

***

“Jiyong, my love,” Jiyong huffed softly, resolutely pressing his face further into the pillows. It was too early for this. “ah, no, see, now I _know_ you’re awake. It’s time to get up, baby doll. We have things to do today.” He heard Jiyong’s whine, muffled by pillows, and chuckled quietly, before leaning down to press a kiss to his shoulder. “I thought you wanted to leave today, my love.”

Jiyong turned his head slightly, just enough to see Seunghyun out of the corner of his eye. He was smirking, the arrogant fool. “I do.”

Seunghyun leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, then the mouth, rolling Jiyong onto his back easily. “Well, then,” he paused, as he kissed him again, hand settling on his jaw. “Shall we get up, my love?” Jiyong huffed again. “No? You don’t want to go?”

“I never said that.” Jiyong dragged Seunghyun back down for one more kiss, then sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s too early to be _awake_.”

“It’s really not, my love. It’s nearly midday.”

Jiyong exhaled in an angry gust, then rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Seunghyun smiled softly, then took his hand, helped Jiyong off the bed. “I don’t like it, though.”

“I know, baby doll.” He kissed Jiyong again, teeth grazing his lower lip for a split second. “I’ll see you downstairs, for breakfast, yes?” Jiyong nodded as Seunghyun withdrew. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

_“Your mother wishes to speak with you, if you’ll receive her.” Jiyong opened his eyes, fury in every line of his body. “I’ll tell her-”_

_“Let her in.” A moment later, then a woman stepped into the bathroom, eyes finding Jiyong immediately. “Hello, Mother. Come to see your pitiful son one last time before you leave?” She didn’t speak as she crossed the room, came to sit on the stool beside the tub._

_“My darling boy.” He looked away quickly, blinking back tears again as she brushed the maid aside, fingers gentle on his hand. “What did he do to you?”_

_“What does it look like he did, Mother?” She smiled sadly at him, and he cursed himself for that particular slip. He hated being angry with her, especially when it wasn’t her fault. “Hurt me just enough to remind me who the King really is. Enough that I’ll remember the lesson. But they’ll heal fast, fast enough that when I meet my future_ husband _, I won’t be wincing with every movement.” She nodded slowly, thumb running over his hand gently. “Speaking of my_ husband _, were you planning on telling me about this?”_

_“He wanted to be the one to tell you.”_

_“No, he wanted to keep it from me until the very last minute, so that I’d have absolutely no way to get out of it. Which is exactly what he’s done.” Jiyong sighed quietly, then pulled his hands out of the cool water to look at them. The red lines on his palms were less angry, now, and they hurt less. It was more of a dull throb. “I’m going to get out of the bath, now, Mother, you might want to shield your eyes from your monster of a child.” She smiled humorlessly, but looked away, waited until he was dried, with a robe tied around his body, to look back at him. “I don’t want to be married. I don’t want a husband.”_ I don’t want to have to take care of someone who I don’t even like for the rest of my life.

_“You would have married Luhan, if we’d gotten him for you.”_

_“I would marry_ whoever _you got for me, I don’t have a choice in the matter. The difference being, I would have enjoyed being married to Luhan.” He turned away from her, looked into the mirror. He had been crying, he hadn’t even realized it. “But now, now I have to marry some faceless stranger, whose name I don’t even know.”_

_“It’s Seunghyun.”_

_Jiyong stilled. In that moment, he saw red, before he spun around, fury glinting in his eyes. “Excuse me?” She didn’t speak, eyes calm. He had always envied his sisters, for getting their mother’s green eyes. “Seunghyun?” A slow nod was the only reply he got. “Like, Seunghyun, whose family has done nothing but try and usurp ours since before I was born, Seunghyun like the jackass who nearly_ killed _me in a sword fight by breaking the fucking rules, Seunghyun like the one that—”_

_“The very same, my darling.” Jiyong exhaled, nostrils flaring angrily. After a moment, his mother rose and came to stand in front of him. “He’s older, now, and so are you. He’s grown up, much like you have. And the union will bring our two families closer together.” Jiyong stepped backwards when she tried to put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s done is done, my darling boy.”_

_Jiyong started towards the door, wiping tears off of his face as he went, then stopped, turned back to look at her. “Just once, you know, I’d like to have some fucking_ choice _in my life. I’d like to be able to decide what exactly happens to me.” With that said, he pushed the door open and walked into his bedroom, ignoring her when she said his name quietly._

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a quiet knock on the door. He looked up quickly, cleared his throat, then, “come in!”

The door opened a moment later, and Joonmyun poked his head in, smiling. “Breakfast is ready, if you are.”

He must have seen something on Jiyong’s face, because his smile fell, and he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. After a few seconds, he spoke, voice soft. “You’re thinking about them again, aren’t you?” Jiyong nodded slowly. Joonmyun exhaled, then crossed the room, and pulled Jiyong into a hug. “Do you—” he cut off, then cleared his throat, and tried again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Joonmyun nodded, as he pulled away. “Okay. If you… if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Joonmyun?”

“Yeah?”

Jiyong sighed softly, kicked the ground gently. “Don’t tell Kris, but—”

“You and Seunghyun are leaving today.” Jiyong opened his mouth to speak, but Joonmyun shook his head once. “I know. Seunghyun had a look on his face. I—I’ll miss you, but if this is what you need to do, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Thank you.”

Joonmyun smiled, then turned on his heel to walk away. He paused about halfway to the door, then glanced back at him. “Jiyong, you know that I’m proud of you, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“It took a lot of strength and willpower to walk away from your family and your home like that. And I—I admire you, for being able to do that.” Joonmyun crossed his arms over his chest.

“Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“Of course. It was… it was my absolute pleasure, to have you two here.”

He said something else after that, but Jiyong didn’t hear it, his attention on the shadows that were shifting in his peripheral vision, just above Joonmyun’s head.

“—and if the two of you ever need a place to stay—”

“Joonmyun.”

“Yeah?”

“Duck.”

Joonmyun dropped to the ground, as Jiyong’s hand flashed through the air, a dagger flying free of his fingers, spinning through the air. It wound up buried in the chest of the man who had just dropped from the ceiling, seconds before he hit the floor, and Jiyong came forward, pulled Joonmyun to his feet before pushing him back, behind him, another dagger sliding down into his hand.

“What—”

“Shh.” Joonmyun snapped his mouth shut, as Jiyong moved towards the figure, spinning the dagger through his fingers. It flashed in and out of Joonmyun’s view, before it came to a halt, as Jiyong knelt by the figure. He reached out to grab the figure by the front of his shirt, and then a soft gasp left his lips. “Oh.”

A soft, choked noise, then, “hello, your Highness.”

“Jimin…”

The figure exhaled quietly, then spoke again, his voice quiet, broken. “Didn’t know you were here, your Highness.” Jiyong snorted softly. “Would have been quieter, if I had.”

“I know, Jimin.” Jiyong placed his free hand on the hilt of the first dagger. “How’s my mother?”

“She’s… she’s worse. She won’t last much longer.” Jiyong nodded slowly. “Jiyong, Yoongi was right, about the demons. They’re using him, they’re using your father, and your brother, they’re draining your mother of her life, they’re going to tear Kazir apart.”

“I shouldn’t have brought them—”

“It wasn’t your fault, we both know that.” Jimin choked out the last word, gasping softly for breath. “Jiyong, I—”

“I know. I know.”

“I’m so sorry, I should have come after you—”

“No. You would have gotten killed.”

“My loyalty is to _you_ , Jiyong. To Yoongi, and to you. Not to the Crown, not anymore. Not… not knowing what I know, about those demons, about those monsters.” Jiyong exhaled quietly, then nodded slowly. “Don’t send me back there.”

“Never.” Jiyong looked back at Joonmyun. “Can you—”

“Of course.” Joonmyun came forward and knelt beside Jiyong. “Stay with him. I’ll fetch… someone, who can fix this.”

He rose to his feet, then slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. As soon as he was gone, Jimin grabbed Jiyong, and pulled him down, so he could speak in his ear, voice quivering. “I’m not going to survive this, we both know that.” Jiyong nodded quickly, biting at his tongue. “The Sleeper has woken. Darkness is coming. The Champion i-is—” he cut off, coughing. There was blood in his mouth, it trickled out of his lips. “Jiyong, he’s coming. He’s coming, and he’s looking for—”

His head dropped back, onto the floor, and he choked again, body going tense for a few moments, before he went limp. Jiyong’s eyes fell closed, and after a few seconds, he pulled the dagger free, wiped the blade clean on his shirt, and slipped it back into his sleeve.

Joonmyun entered the room a moment later, Seunghyun at his side, a pair of healers behind them. Before they could do anything, though, Jiyong rose to his feet, and came towards them, pushed between Joonmyun and Seunghyun, and into the hallway. “We’re leaving. Now.”

***

Miles away from the palace, deep in the mountains, Yixing woke with a start, breath locking in his throat for a few moments, before it loosened, and he exhaled. He glanced around, tension leaving his shoulders when he spotted Zitao sleeping soundly beside him. After a moment, he laid back down, wrapped his arm around Zitao’s waist, pulling him into his chest.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He had felt it for the first time, in that vision, months and months ago, before Sivalia had been attacked. He had thought, back then, that it had something to do with Minseok, and Kyungsoo; then he had thought that maybe it was Jiyong, and the Shadow Crown.

He was starting to think that this was bigger than he had originally imagined.

It was cold, in his chest, clawing at his heart, gripping tightly. Painful. Horrible. Terrifying. He could feel the gods, in the back of his mind, humming softly, a blanket of protection around his being. It covered Zitao, too; Yixing could just barely pick up on the soft sheen around his body.

“You’re _twitching_.”

“Sorry, kitten.” Yixing kissed his shoulder gently, trying to hold still. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“’s okay.” Zitao wrapped his fingers around Yixing’s wrist, humming quietly in his throat. “What woke you up?” Yixing opened his mouth to speak, but Zitao cut him off. “And if you say _nothing_ , I’m going to be upset.”

Yixing chuckled quietly, before he spoke. “Something’s wrong.” He kissed Zitao’s neck again. “I’ll tell you more in the morning. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi turned his head when he heard Hoseok speak, and nodded once, before looking back out the window that he was standing by. After a few seconds, Hoseok came forward, to stand beside him, leaning against the glass. He was watching Yoongi closely, eyes locked on his face, but Yoongi hadn’t yet met his gaze. “Hoseok, how are you?”

A beat of silence, then, “I’m tired.”

That admission was followed by silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi could see Hoseok bow his head. His exhaustion was clear on his face, written in the lines of his body. After a moment, he raised an arm, and Hoseok came forward, tucking himself under it. He wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist, burying his head in Yoongi’s shoulder. “Want to talk about it?” Hoseok shook his head once, and Yoongi hummed. “Okay.”

The only noise was the sound of their breathing, Yoongi’s gentle and steady, Hoseok’s faster, more labored. His body was tense, and he was trembling, just slightly, under Yoongi’s hand. “I just—I’m scared.” His fingers curled in the back of Yoongi’s jacket. “Seokjin and Taehyung died six months ago, Namjoon was killed three months ago, Jimin was sent off to Eliria, and we both know that he was sent off to his death. I just… that means I’m next.”

“No. I won’t let that happen.”

“Yoongi, I don’t think—”

“No one is going to hurt you.” Yoongi wrapped his other arm around Hoseok, hugging him into his chest. “You’re the last Shadow Blade that I have left. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Hoseok’s breathing hitched slightly. “I’ve lost too much, I’m not losing you.”

“Yoongi—”

“Mm.”

“Did you hear that?”

Yoongi held still for a moment, then nodded once, squeezed Hoseok’s waist gently. The words he spoke next were little more than a breath of air into his ear, barely audible even to Hoseok. “In my jacket, left side.” Hoseok nodded once, hand sliding under Yoongi’s jacket, fingers curling around the hilt of the dagger. “Patience.”

Hoseok exhaled slowly, relaxing into Yoongi’s body. He closed his eyes, listening intently, a slow smile creeping across his face as he heard the intruder moving.

A split second of silence, and then the intruder dropped down from the ceiling. Hoseok shoved Yoongi away, and as he himself was brought to the ground, the intruder fighting for purchase, he rolled, pulling the newcomer with him.

When they came to a halt, Hoseok was kneeling on his chest, dagger in his hand, but before he could use it, he met the gaze of the individual beneath him. Neither of them moved for a few moments, then Hoseok smirked, a predatory glint to his eyes. “Hello, Jungguk.”

“Hello, Hoseok.” Jungguk wriggled, broke free for just long enough to flip them around, so he was kneeling over Hoseok. As he did, though, Hoseok’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he pulled, yanking Jungguk down onto the ground, on top of him.

“I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to see you again.”

“Can’t say I feel the same.”

Hoseok chuckled, a split second before Yoongi grabbed Jungguk by the back of his shirt, and pulled him backwards, arm locking around his throat. “Welcome home, little one.” Jungguk squirmed, wriggling in Yoongi’s grip. His fingers wrapped around Yoongi’s forearm, and he tried to yank his arm away, but Yoongi was stronger than he was. “Shh, little one.”

“Let me _go_ —”

“If I do,” Yoongi paused, allowed Jungguk to squirm for a few more seconds, before his free arm wrapped around his waist, yanking him fully against his chest. “are you going to run?”

Jungguk huffed softly, “No.”

Yoongi hummed quietly, then released Jungguk. He stepped away from Yoongi, took a few steps away from the two of them, eyes darting from Hoseok to Yoongi quickly. Yoongi was smiling slightly, a tiny curl to his mouth. “Jungguk, what brings you back to Kazir?”

“I—none of your business.” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, and after a few seconds, Jungguk sighed, then spoke again. “Jiyong sent me.”

“You’ve seen him, then?”

Jungguk held still for a few moments. “Yes.” He looked between them for a few moments, then sat down on the floor, head bowed. “He’s worried about you two. You, especially, Yoongi.” He folded his arms over his chest, biting at his lower lip. “He asked me to come here and… he says that there’s something wrong. In Kazir. And he—obviously he can’t come back here, and he… he didn’t even ask me to do it, he just… mentioned it, and I said I’d go. He tried to stop me.”

“He doesn’t want you here?”

“He doesn’t want me anywhere near the Shadow Crown. He never did. That was why he—” Jungguk cut off, eyes wide. He looked at Yoongi for a long moment, then sighed, before he spoke again. “you know that he’s the one that sent me to Eishta, right?”

“I knew. He told me.”

Jungguk nodded slowly, then closed his eyes. His next few words were a whisper. “Yoongi, I—he told me about the demons.” Yoongi nodded slowly, as he joined Jungguk on the floor. “Are you… are you in danger, here?”

Hoseok snorted. “We’re always in danger here, Jungguk. You know that.”

Jungguk swallowed, bowed his head. “I—yes, I know. I know. I just meant… I meant are you in more danger than normal? Are they—Hoseok, most of the Shadow Blades are _dead_. Jimin is dead, Taehyung and Seokjin were killed when we were all in Kazir—”

“Namjoon is dead, too.”

Jungguk paled, pursed his lips. After a few seconds, he nodded. “The point stands.” He bit his lower lip, then reached into his sleeve, and pulled a dagger free. “I know that we didn’t part on the best of terms, Yoongi. And I know that you could have – probably _should_ have – sounded the alarm when you sensed me here.” He held up the dagger, fingers on the blade. “My loyalty was to you, first. I don’t… I don’t hate you. Or you, Hoseok. I don’t hate either of you. I don’t want you two to die.”

Yoongi hummed quietly, then held out his hand. After a few seconds, Jungguk placed the dagger in it, allowed Yoongi to pull it away from him, and sheath it, under his jacket. After a few seconds, he took his own dagger from Hoseok, who was watching Jungguk with worry in his eyes. “You were one of my best students, Jungguk. You were certainly one of my favorites.” He paused. “Please don’t forget that I do care about you.”

“Thank you.” Yoongi nodded once, as he passed his dagger to Jungguk. “I miss you.”

“I know, little one. We miss you, too.”

“Please be careful, please take care of yourself. And you, too, Hoseok. I don’t want you to die.”

They all stiffened when they heard a knock at the door. Yoongi’s breath locked in his throat, and he shot to his feet, pulling Jungguk to the window. Hoseok went to the door quickly, pulling off his shirt as he did, and ran his hands through his hair, before he pulled it open.

“I—hello, your Majesty.”

Yoongi and Jungguk shared a panicked look, a split second before Jungguk climbed out of the window. He lowered himself down, clinging to the wall of the palace, as Yoongi closed the window behind him.

He leaned his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut, as the dull voices from inside echoed softly in his mind. Yoongi was halfway across the room, when the door opened fully, and the King entered, footsteps dull thuds against the floor.

“What can I do for you, your Majesty?”

This was bad. Jungguk had known that it wouldn’t be safe to come here, it wouldn’t be safe to return to Kazir. He had understood the risks, when he had told Jiyong that he would go. He had known that he would be in danger when he decided to come back. But he _hadn’t_ known that the King would show up. He honestly hadn’t anticipated staying as long as he did. He hadn’t anticipated being _caught_.

He really should have. Yoongi had been the very first Shadow Blade, the first one that Jiyong had chosen. Hoseok had followed not long after, alongside Namjoon and Seokjin. They were both very powerful, and very in tune with the enhanced senses that their powers had given them.

“…on the Shadow Blades?”

Jungguk’s attention snapped back to the conversation happening on the other side of the wall. He pressed his lips together firmly, swallowing any sort of noise that he might have made.

“We still haven’t heard from Jimin, but I expect we’ll be getting word from him soon. The patrol that went after Yixing and Jongin sent a message last night, they still haven’t found them, and it’s starting… it’s starting to snow.” The King hummed softly, and Jungguk swallowed hard, a lump rising in his throat. That wasn’t good. Those mountains were hellish in the winter.

“Find them.”

“We will, your Majesty.”

“Wonderful. I’m glad to hear it.” A moment passed, then Jungguk heard the door close. He exhaled quietly, waited for a few more seconds, before he heard the window open. He looked up quickly, found Yoongi looking down at him, worry on his face.

“Are you alright, Jungguk?” He nodded quickly, blinking slowly. “You need to get out of here. You need to go home, little one, where you’re safe.”

“I will. I—Yoongi, please be safe.”

Yoongi held out a hand, and Jungguk took it gently, smiling when Yoongi squeezed his fingers gently. “I will, little one. It’s okay. We’ll be safe. But you have to promise that you’ll do the same.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Go now, little one.”

***

Seunghyun had known that he would do this. He _always_ did this, always tried to shut Seunghyun out without telling him anything.

Not this time.

“My love, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He heard Jiyong swallow, watched him come to a halt, and came to stand beside him, hand coming to rest on the small of his back. Jiyong didn’t speak immediately, but when he did, his voice was quiet. “I—it’s a long—”

“I don’t care. Tell me.” Seunghyun’s thumb rubbed gently at Jiyong’s spine, and after a few seconds, he leaned closer, to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Please tell me. What did Jimin say to you?”

“He didn’t say anything, Seunghyun.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

A moment passed in silence, then Jiyong pulled away quickly, turning his back on Seunghyun. His shoulders were tense, arms crossed over his chest. After a few moments, he spoke again. “Three years ago, before I… before we were engaged, my father sent me into the mountains near Eliria. I didn’t know what I was looking for. I didn’t know what I would find.” Seunghyun heard him swallow. “You met Li and Eo, didn’t you?”

“Once.”

Jiyong nodded slowly. “That… that was who I found. I mean, I found… others, too, but they were the two that returned with me.” He saw down, folding his legs beneath him. “There was a reason that I tried to keep you as far away from them as possible. They… those two women – demons – they… they feed off of the life force of my family. My mother, primarily, and once she’s dead, then it will be my father. And then it would have been me, if I hadn’t left, and after me, it would have been you.”

“Ji—”

“Please don’t.” Seunghyun hummed softly, as he came to kneel behind Jiyong. “They—the two of them, they’ve dug their talons deep into Kazir. They will not willingly let go of the Shadow Crown.” Seunghyun’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and after a moment, Jiyong bowed his head. “My father wanted Kazir to rule the world. The demons want to tear the world apart. They want to tear down the gods, and rebuild the world for themselves.”

“Why was Jimin in Eliria?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that he was sent to kill me. He _said_ he didn’t know that I was there, but he was lying.” He exhaled quietly. “And I would imagine that my father sent him because he knew that Jimin would die upon reaching me.” His dagger flashed into his hand, and Seunghyun reached down, to wrap his fingers around Jiyong’s wrist, gripping gently. “I—”

“It wasn’t your fault. He would have hurt Joonmyun.”

The dagger spun through Jiyong’s fingers rapidly. Seunghyun’s chin came to rest on his shoulder. “I still killed him. One of my best friends.” Seunghyun pressed a gentle kiss to the shell of Jiyong’s ear. “I killed him, just like my father knew that I would. I’m always going to—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” The words were a low whisper, his other arm wrapping around Jiyong’s waist. “Don’t say that about yourself, my love. Don’t you _ever_.”

Jiyong exhaled, as he leaned backwards, into Seunghyun’s chest, still spinning the dagger through his fingers quickly. “I’ll never be able to escape him, will I? I’ll always be what he made me.”

“No. No, you won’t. You _aren’t_. You haven’t been what he made you for a very long time.” After a moment, Seunghyun’s fingers crept towards the dagger, and the next time that it flashed through his fingers, Seunghyun snagged it, pulled it away from him. “Shall we sleep, my love?”

“I won’t, but if you want to—”

He cut off when Seunghyun kissed him gently. “We can go a little farther, before we need to stop.” Jiyong nodded slowly, nosed his way into Seunghyun’s neck. “Ji, baby?”

“Mhm?”

“Thank you for telling me.”

After a moment, Jiyong rose to his feet, pulling Seunghyun with him. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do, my love. And I love you, too.” Seunghyun’s arm wrapped around Jiyong’s waist. “It’s going to be okay.” Seunghyun kissed the top of his head. “We’re going to be okay. I promise.” Jiyong turned his head slightly, to press his face into Seunghyun’s shoulder. Seunghyun hummed softly, then squeezed his waist. “Let’s go.”

***

_“I see you haven’t lost your arrogance.”_

_Jiyong snorted softly, flipping through a stack of paper. “Nor you yours.”_

_“And you still haven’t outgrown your smartass little mouth.” He could feel Seunghyun’s eyes on him, gaze resting heavily on his back, then his face. “Would it have been so hard for you to greet me when I arrived, at the very least?”_

_Jiyong felt his anger rear, tried to stamp it down as he picked up another stack, rearranging the few pages left on his desk. “No, it really wouldn’t have been.” He paused as he walked, still not looking. “But then you might have gotten to thinking that I actually_ wanted _this, and I really,_ really _don’t.” A few beats of silence followed as Jiyong stood still, hand resting on the bookshelf. “Besides, it’s not like you weren’t going to see me eventually. Why force me to look at your ugly face-”_

_“Jiyong.”_

_He whirled around, came face to face with Seunghyun, anger twisting very rapidly into annoyance. Seunghyun had grown up, that much was for sure – he’d gotten taller, and, unfortunately, he’d also gotten to be very, very attractive. He looked at Jiyong for a long moment, dark gaze unwavering. “Well, now you’ve seen me. If you don’t mind, I have work to do. Country to run, you know how it is.” He went to brush past Seunghyun, but the man grabbed his wrist. That pissed Jiyong off. He turned, fury sparking in his eyes. “Let go of me.” Seunghyun’s face stayed neutral, but there was a satisfied look in his eyes. “Get your disgusting hands off of me, or I swear on all that is holy-”_

_“What? What will you do?” Jiyong’s nostrils flared. “You going to hurt me, Jiyong?” He watched carefully as Jiyong’s jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his neck. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? Still running your mouth, with no balls to back it up.”_

_Jiyong wasn’t really sure what happened. All he knew was that one second, he could dimly hear Seunghyun speaking over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and the next, Seunghyun had stopped, his head turned to the side, a small wound on his jaw. Blood was starting to pool there. Jiyong’s knuckles were tingling, and after a moment, it all connected. Oh. Oh_ shit.

_Too late to back out of it now. “I told you to let go of me.” He was quite proud of how steady his voice was. Fuck. His father was going to kill him. “Next time, listen.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and walked to the desk, sat down in the chair. “Get out.” He heard Seunghyun obey, then put his head in his hands, sighing quietly. Fuck. Fuck fuck_ fuck _. A moment later, and he tugged off his ring, turned it over to examine it. There was blood on the stone. He wiped it off gently on the sash of his robes, then slipped it back onto his finger. Fuck fuck_ fuck _. He was dead, he was so fucking dead._

_He wasn’t aware that he had moved until his head hit the desk. A low groan left his mouth, and he ran a hand through his hair. Punching his future husband, slicing him open with the family ring. Brilliant move._

Jiyong’s thumb dragged along the tiny scar on the underside of Seunghyun’s jaw, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. As much as he had regretted it in the moment, and as much as he regretted hurting his husband, that interaction had pushed their relationship to where it was today.

And maybe, just maybe, he liked having his mark on Seunghyun.

He had a matching scar, in almost the same place. That one, much like most of the scars on his body, had come from his father. Same ring, too.

_“What happened to his face?”_

_“He told me the same thing he told you, Father.”_

_The King’s gaze was dark. He and Jiyong had the same eyes, the same cold, calculating, removed stare, the same furious glare, the same dangerous glint in their eyes. He had been mistaken for his father on a number of occasions, and it always irked Jiyong when it happened, though he wasn’t sure why. After a moment, he got to his feet and came to stand in front of Jiyong, one hand coming down to grip his jaw, tilting his head back, to reveal a tiny scar, just underneath Jiyong’s chin, out of plain sight. “I just thought that the mark on his face,” he paused, placed his fist underneath Jiyong’s chin, the edge of the ring lining up with the scar, “looked a little bit familiar.” Jiyong swallowed hard, fighting to keep eye contact. “But clearly, I was mistaken.” He withdrew a second later, and sat down in the chair beside Jiyong, smiling. “Tell me about the contracts with the guilds.”_

_As Jiyong started into the boring details of the contracts – which he knew by memory, he’d read and re-read them so many times – the rest of his mind was racing. If it got out that he had punched Seunghyun, he’d be in so much trouble, with his father. If word got out that he’d taken Seunghyun into his bed, had slept with him – in too many different ways – he’d be in so much trouble, with his mother. He hated himself enough already – for both incidents – he really didn’t need his parents to find out and make it worse._

_They lapsed into silence when he finished speaking, his father’s gaze heavy, the danger almost invisible. Jiyong could see it, anyone who’d spent 25 years around the man would have been able to, and at the moment, it was all he could see, so it surprised him when his father spoke. “You’ve done well.”_

_Jiyong’s breath stopped. He looked at his father blankly for a few moments, before bowing his head. “Thank you.” Another pause, this one longer than before. He felt the beginning of a smile beginning to tug at his mouth, but he bit his tongue, trying to keep it to himself. “The treaty amendments for Valheria-”_

_“By the end of the week, I want them on my desk.” Jiyong nodded once. “You’re dismissed.” Without another word, he rose to his feet, and circled back around to the other side of the desk. Jiyong rose as well, made his way to the door, then paused, turned back to look at his father. “Is there a problem?” Jiyong shook his head once. “Then allow me to make myself more clear: I want you to leave.”_

_“You’ve never said that to me before.” The King raised an eyebrow, and Jiyong rushed to explain. “You’ve never told me that I’ve done well.” A moment passed. “I’ll just, ah, go, then.”_

_He turned, froze when he heard his father speak. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He nodded once, then left the room, closing the door behind him._

Jiyong pressed a gentle kiss to the scar, running his fingers through Seunghyun’s hair. After a few moments, Seunghyun’s eyes opened, and he smiled at Jiyong. “Hey, baby doll.”

“Hi.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Jiyong shrugged, one-shouldered, and Seunghyun’s grip tightened, pulling him closer. His leg hitched over Seunghyun’s waist, and he pressed his face into Seunghyun’s shoulder. “This.” Jiyong tapped the scar gently with one finger. Seunghyun hummed, then pressed a kiss to his forehead gently. “I am sorry about that, you know.”

“I’m not upset.”

“I’m still _sorry_. I hurt you.”

“Shh, no. I’ve taken far worse, my love. That was nothing. And besides,” he paused, reaching up to cradle Jiyong’s jaw. “we match.”

Jiyong snorted quietly, then turned his head, to kiss Seunghyun’s hand. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh i don't know how i feel about this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

_Miss me?_

Yixing’s eyes snapped open, heart beating rapidly in his chest. He still had an arm around Zitao’s waist, and after a few moments, he determined that Zitao was still sleeping, chest rising and falling steadily. He pressed his mouth to Zitao’s shoulder, before releasing him, and rising to his feet, walking away from Zitao.

 _I, for one, missed_ you _. You never fail to entertain me._

“Get out of my head.”

 _No._.

Yixing didn’t say anything further until he was outside, cold wind biting at his bare skin. “What do you _want_?” He didn’t get a response, to that. “Haven’t you done enough?”

 _We need your help. And trust me, you’re the_ last _person that I want to ask for help, but you’re also the only person that I believe can actually help us, who wouldn’t immediately be killed upon arrival in this country._ Yixing rolled his eyes, as he came to a halt at the edge of the cliff. _Believe it or not, the King does respect you. It’s Joonmyun that he hates. And also Jiyong, but you already knew that_. After a few moments, Yixing nodded slowly, and he felt a ripple of agreement run through the connection. _I know that you don’t want anything to do with us. I know you don’t want anything to do with me, because of what I did to Zitao._

“I don’t want to help you, but I will. I will, and you knew that, before you asked. I will, because if there’s one person I dislike more than you, it’s the Shadow King.” A low hum of agreement. “What do you want from me? What do you want me to do?”

 _For now? Nothing. I still don’t know what’s going on here. But once I do, I need to know that you’re on my side. I cannot do this alone. I have one Shadow Blade left; the two of us cannot do this._ Yixing exhaled slowly, a shiver running down his spine.

“You will have me. And, if you need them, you will have my brothers, and their families.”

_Thank you._

“You owe me. You will owe me for the rest of eternity.”

 _I know. I know that. I will take that responsibility, wholeheartedly, if it means that you will help me._ He paused, deep in thought. _Thank you. I do mean that, you know. Thank you, so very much._

“Take care of yourself.”

_I will—_

Yixing cut him out of his mind quickly when he heard Zitao behind him, and he turned quickly, smiling. “Hello, kitten.” Zitao smiled, then crossed the space between them, wrapped his arms around Yixing’s waist. “You should be sleeping.”

“You weren’t there.”

Yixing nodded slowly. “I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you.” Zitao shrugged, mouth latching onto Yixing’s neck. “Yoongi reached out to me.”

“Oh.”

After a few seconds, Yixing kissed Zitao’s cheek, then placed a hand on the back of his neck, gripping gently. “He wants our help. Well, my help, but—”

“If you’re going to help, I’m going with you.”

“I figured as much, sweetheart.” Yixing’s grip tightened slightly. “I won’t help him if you don’t want me to. You know that.” Zitao nodded, squeezing Yixing’s body gently. “He did sound genuinely scared, though. I think he’s in danger.”

“Obviously he’s in danger, he’s in Kazir.” Yixing snorted softly, breath hitching when Zitao pulled him to the ground. He shifted, so he was straddling Zitao’s hips, one hand on his neck, the other one on his shoulder. “Yixing—I want—” He cut off when he kissed Yixing gently, squeezing his hips. “Please?”

“Out here, kitten? Or would you like to go back inside?” Zitao didn’t answer, merely whined, pulling Yixing against his chest. Yixing chuckled, then rolled his hips, grinding down against Zitao’s crotch. “Ah, kitten, I’d rather you not freeze to death, let’s get you inside.” He didn’t pull away, though, stayed right where he was. Zitao was squirming underneath him, fingers digging into Yixing’s hips, dragging him impossibly closer. “Kitten, you must be cold—”

Zitao pulled back, and after a moment, his eyes glowed gold for a second. Yixing glanced over his shoulder, found that they were encased in a shimmering gold bubble, blocking the wind. “Going inside involves standing up. I’m not doing that.” Yixing snorted quietly, then leaned in to kiss him again, fingers dragging down his chest slowly. “I love you, so much.”

“And I love you, my precious kitten.” Yixing leaned down, to kiss the underside of Zitao’s jaw, nipping at his skin gently. “My precious, _darling_ angel.”

“Yixing—”

“I know, shh, kitten, I know.” Yixing kissed Zitao again, fingers running through his hair. “You’re so gorgeous, my sweet kitten. I love you so much.” Zitao’s grip tightened, dragging Yixing closer. “Yeah, okay, alright, I’ll give you what you want.” He pressed Zitao backwards, onto the ground, then rolled his hips again, pressed one more kiss to Zitao’s mouth. Zitao made a quiet noise in his throat, and Yixing chuckled. “Just relax, okay?”

“’m always relaxed.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, the space around them filled with nothing but the sound of Yixing kissing Zitao gently, picking him apart with his mouth. He ducked down further, to kiss Zitao’s neck, biting gently at his skin. There was a remnant of a hickey left underneath his ear, and as Yixing’s hand came to rest on Zitao’s jaw, he bit down harder, sucking viciously. Zitao whined quietly, fingernails biting into Yixing’s skin, dragging painful, red lines down his back. “ _Yixing_ , I just, I want—”

“Alright, kitten, alright. Breathe. It’s _okay_.” Zitao was trembling, now, underneath him, pawing at his back. “You’re so funny, my angel. I do adore you.” 

The next thing Yixing knew, he was flat on his back. He could hear someone—that was—no, no, _no_ —

Zitao was screaming.

Yixing shot to his feet, reaching for the dagger that was usually—ah, but of course, he wasn’t wearing his boots, not now, he had been asleep not twenty minutes ago. Zitao was on the ground, body contorted dangerously, back arched painfully, and he was screaming, the sound raw and painful and broken, and Yixing was sure he would never hate anything more than hearing that.

“ _Yixing_ —”

He scrambled to Zitao’s side, dropped to his knees beside him and reached out to put a hand on his arm. As soon as he touched Zitao, Zitao jerked away from him, the scream pitching higher, voice starting to break. The mark on his arm was glowing gold, the edges shadowed and ragged. “Kitten, I—”

“ _Help_ me—” 

A moment passed, then Yixing grabbed him, pulling Zitao quickly into his lap. Zitao thrashed, trying to tug free, sharp stabs of stray energy slashing into Yixing’s body, but he gritted his teeth and ignored them as best he could, holding Zitao tightly against his chest. “Kitten, sweetheart, _kitten_ , I need you to focus on me, okay? I need you to—” He cut off when Zitao screamed again, twisting in Yixing’s grip, trying to break free. Yixing didn’t release him, fingers clasping the back of Zitao’s neck, squeezing gently. “Angel, breathe for me.”

“I c—”

Yixing pressed their foreheads together, pushing his own power outwards, to envelope both of them. Zitao lashed out at him, his energy pulsing to try and push Yixing away, but after a few moments, he relented, allowed Yixing to press into his mind. “Shh, hush, there, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, my sweet kitten, you’re going to be alright.”

“I—I can’t—get them out of my _head_.”

Yixing kissed his forehead gently, fingers still pressing at the back of his neck gently. “Hey, hey, I will, angel, I promise. You know I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, you know I’ll always protect you, my kitten. I need you to breathe for me.”

“—trying, ‘m trying—”

“And you’re doing so well, sweetheart, you always do so well for me, you’re so perfect, just relax and let me take care of it, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.”

A long silence passed, then, softly, “promise?”

“Always, kitten.” Yixing’s grip on his neck tightened slightly, and he kissed Zitao on the forehead again, then on the cheek. “Now, kitten, are you focusing on me?” Zitao nodded slowly, inhaling deeply through his nose. “There, that’s good, keep breathing, sweetheart. And when you think you’re ready, I need you to let out a slow breath, and then close your eyes. Can you do that for me?” A few moments passed in silence, then Zitao did just that, eyelids fluttering shut. He leaned forward, into Yixing, still trembling. “My sweet, darling kitten.”

After a moment, Yixing released Zitao’s jaw, in favor of placing both hands on his jaw, thumbs pressing gently at his cheekbones. When he spoke, it was a quiet whisper, against Zitao’s mouth, the words echoing softly, vibrating through the air in ways that weren’t quite human.

“You will release him. He is not yours to claim, his soul and his mind and his body are not yours to use as you please, you will not _have_ him.” Something furious flashed back at him through the fog of Zitao’s mind, danger and anger and hate tearing through their mind. “I have warned you in the past, have I not, about touching that which belongs to me? I have warned you of the consequences of touching what is mine. I have _shown_ you the consequences of trying to claim that which I have claimed. Do I need to repeat the lesson?”

_You think yourself so powerful, little god-touched, you think yourself so great. One day, you will see that your greatness has been nothing but a lie, cooked up by the false beings that you call your gods. You will see that all of this power that you believe you possess is nothing but a sham, a façade that you have paraded around for far too long._

“And I am sure that that is the case. But until that time comes, you will keep your claws off of what belongs to me. You will keep your hands away from those that I have claimed. You will release your claim on this world. You do not belong here.”

 _Have you told this one, Yixing, about what you are?_ Yixing stiffened, and a low, dangerous wave of joy hummed through his mind. _Always so afraid of hurting them, aren’t you? So afraid that you’re going to cause them pain, by telling them the truth._

“I’ve told you to leave. Do I need to make you?”

A moment passed, then Zitao went limp, slumping against his chest. Yixing exhaled, then ran his fingers through his hair, kissed his temple. “You touch him again, and I will personally travel to the Demon Realm, and see to it that your ability to come here is gone. Your King owes me a favor – or several – and I know for a fact that he wouldn’t miss having to hear about your ventures.”

_I’ll kill you, one day._

“I know that. Once I am dead, my soul is yours to torment, as we’ve discussed. But until that time comes, I have control. Now, go.”

***

_Jiyong made his way slowly to the door of Seunghyun’s quarters. He stood outside the door for a moment, before he knocked gently. The door was answered by a maid – her name was Sabrina, he’d met her a few times, and she bowed low, not opening the door any wider. “Is he…can I talk to him?”_

_“I can’t imagine he’ll be happy to see you, your Highness.” Regardless, she opened the door and allowed him in, led him back to the bedroom, knocked quietly on the door. She stuck her head inside. “Your Highness, Prince Jiyong is here, he’d like to speak to you.”_

_After a moment, she let him inside, closed the door quietly behind him. Seunghyun was sitting cross-legged on the couch, holding a damp cloth to his jaw. When Jiyong entered, he looked up at him, dark eyes angry. They stayed quiet for a few moments, until the maid in the room handed Seunghyun a clean cloth – this one dry – and took the other one, before slipping out of the room. “You punched me.”_  
_Jiyong nodded once. “I did.” He didn’t rush to apologize, didn’t move from where he stood in the doorway. “You didn’t think I had the balls.”_

_Seunghyun laughed quietly. “I still don’t think you have the balls. I don’t think you wanted to do that. I think that the only reason that you punched me is because you don’t know how to handle your anger.” Jiyong’s jaw clenched and his fingers curled into a fist. “Are you going to punch me again? Go ahead. Prove me right.”_

_“Fuck you.”_

_Seunghyun laughed quietly, eyes flashing. “So soon? We aren’t even married yet.” Jiyong’s anger twisted painfully in his stomach. “You don’t know how to handle being angry. You let it build up inside of you, until you snap, and you_ hurt _someone. That’s the only way you know to relieve the pressure.”_

_Jiyong looked at him for a long moment, head cocked to the side in thought. “We have to go. My parents are expecting us.”_

_Seunghyun held his gaze for a few seconds. “That’s where you get it from, isn’t it? From your parents.” Jiyong didn’t answer, tried to keep anything from showing on his face. “You’re the Crown Prince of Kazir. You have to keep all of your emotions to yourself, you have to keep it inside. You haven’t lashed out, not like you did when you punched me, in a long time, have you?” Jiyong bit down on his tongue, hard enough that he tasted blood. “Because you can’t lash out at your family, you can’t lash out at anyone here, because they’ll tell your father, and then you’ll be in real trouble—”_

_“Shut up.”_.

_“I’m right, aren’t I? That’s what it is, that’s why you’re the way you are, because you don’t know how to handle your emotions in a healthy way.”_

__“Shut_ up _, Seunghyun.”__

_“What have they_ done _to you?”_

_What_ hadn’t _they done, that was the real question. Jiyong was trembling, his fury vibrating through his whole body, and he knew Seunghyun was right, they both knew that Seunghyun was right, but he wasn’t going to admit that anytime soon, he wasn’t that stupid—he cut off that train of thought when he heard Seunghyun speak again, voice quiet in the silence. “Jiyong.”_

_Jiyong’s gaze darted to Seunghyun’s. “Stop. Just—just_ stop _. You know absolutely _nothing_ about me, you absolute fucking piece of _shit _. You don’t know my life, you don’t know my family, and you most certainly don’t know_ me _, so just stay_ out _of things that don’t fucking concern you._ ”

*** 

_Jiyong woke to feel Seunghyun’s fingers on his back, cool and gentle. He shuddered as his fingertips caught on a particularly rigid scar, his spine going stiff as Seunghyun dragged his thumb over the trio of white lines underneath his right shoulder blade, leaning down to press a kiss to Jiyong’s shoulder. “Precious.” Jiyong hummed softly, as Seunghyun’s mouth dragged along his shoulder. “Where are those from?” He murmured the words into Jiyong’s skin, mouth gentle._

_“I don’t remember.”_

_“Don’t lie, darling flower, it doesn’t flatter you.”_

_Jiyong exhaled slowly as Seunghyun’s mouth came to rest on his neck. “I_ don’t _remember.” A moment passed, and then Seunghyun rolled, his forearm pressing Jiyong’s shoulders into the mattress. “Seunghyun—”_

_“Tell me.” Jiyong whined softly, trying to squirm out from underneath Seunghyun. He was strong, Seunghyun would give him that, but he had the advantage. “Please?”_

_Jiyong exhaled slowly, his back going stiff as his muscles tensed, further highlighting the scars that littered his skin. “The three lines, those are from a boning knife.” Seunghyun hummed softly, pressed his mouth to each line individually, before his mouth drifted to the left, where five circular scars ran vertically down Jiyong’s spine. “Same kind of knife. Push the tip of the knife into the skin and rotate.” His hand came up to demonstrate, and he shuddered as he did. Seunghyun’s thumb swiped over the scars that were littered down the left side of Jiyong’s ribcage, his mouth following his fingers slowly. “Sword. That’s why they aren’t as neat as the other ones.” He inhaled sharply when Seunghyun kissed the bottom of his spine, just above his ass. “Seunghyun—”_

_“These ones. Tell me about them.” He brushed his lips over the twin lines on either side of where he’d just kissed. “Tell me.”_

_“Rapier.” He gasped quietly, hands fisting in the sheets as Seunghyun’s fingers dragged across his hole, trying to squirm away. “Two quick—” He gasped softly, and Seunghyun hummed softly, then rolled Jiyong onto his back, prompting a whine of frustration. “Why—”_

_“Hush, precious.” Seunghyun kissed him gently, straddling his waist. “Tell me about the rest, and I’ll fuck you again, just like I did last night. Would you like that?” Jiyong whined again, gazing up at Seunghyun with wide eyes. “Yeah, you would.” He chuckled quietly as Jiyong glared at him. “Be_ good _for me.”_

_“I’m always good.” Seunghyun rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment, leaned down to nose at Jiyong’s collarbone, where two faded scars rested underneath his clavicle. “Rapier. Same as the ones on my back.” Seunghyun pressed a kiss to each one, before his mouth found the four lines on the left side of his chest. “Ah—_ oh _.” He bit back a moan, squirming, as Seunghyun wrapped a hand around his cock, gently. “I- dagger. Not cuts, the blade was heated and then pressed into the skin. Burns.” His mouth fell open as Seunghyun kissed down the center of his chest, one hand holding his hips down as Jiyong tried to buck up into his hand. “Seunghyun, Seunghyun,_ please _, please, I want to-”_

_“I know you do, precious, but we’ve still got a few more to talk about.”_

_Jiyong exhaled, throwing his head back as he strained to get out of Seunghyun’s grip. “Sword.” Seunghyun nodded once, nose tracing each line of the scars on Jiyong’s stomach. “Means monster, in the Old Tongue._ Shavaria _.” He keened quietly as Seunghyun’s mouth ghosted over his cock, only to come to rest on his thighs, where a series of straight lines were, mirrored almost exactly on both sides. “I- paring knife.” Seunghyun felt tension leave his body, replaced by something akin to defeat. “_ Please.” 

_A moment passed, then a second, and then Jiyong felt Seunghyun’s hand on his jaw, tipping his head back and holding it there. They held still for a few moments, before Seunghyun pressed a gentle kiss to the scar tucked under Jiyong’s jaw. “And that one?”_

_They lapsed into silence, both breathing heavy before Jiyong spoke. “Royal family ring.”_

_Seunghyun hummed quietly, mouth latching onto Jiyong’s jaw a moment later. “Spread your legs.”_

***

  
_He knocked gently on the office door, but didn’t wait to be granted entrance. He pushed the door open, closed it tightly behind him, eyes locking on the King immediately. The man didn’t look happy to see him, as he leaned back in his seat, gaze dangerous. “I’m sure you have something better to do than bother me.”_

_Seunghyun looked at him for a few moments, with neutral eyes. “You know,” he paused as he walked towards the desk, placed his hands on the edge of the desk, leaned forward, “that he values your opinion of him above all others. There is nothing that he would rather do than make you happy.” The King didn’t look at all interested. “Those scars that he has. You gave him those, didn’t you?”_

_“My relationship with my son is none of your business.”_

_“My_ fiancé _and his health are absolutely my business. You_ hurt _him.”_

_“I_ disciplined _him. He acted out of line; he had to learn somehow.”_

_Seunghyun shook his head once, eyes dark. “No. Just because he doesn’t act like you doesn’t mean that he isn’t a good person, a good leader for this country.” The King stood up, gaze locked on Seunghyun. “I love your son. And I will be damned if I let you keep hurting him. He doesn’t deserve that.”_

_The King took a swing at him, and Seunghyun barely got out of the way. Before he knew what was happening, the King had come around the desk, and grabbed him by the front of his robes, shoved him down to the floor. Seunghyun made to get up, then froze when he found a sword inches from his throat. “You know absolutely_ nothing _about my son, or my family.”_

_“I think it’s_ you _that doesn’t know your son.”_

_He saw the sword glinting, inches from his face, but didn’t flinch, glared up at the King silently. After a few moments, the King spoke. “It seems my son has failed to tell you exactly how life in Kazir works, for the royal family.” He crouched beside Seunghyun, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Let me keep it simple for you: nothing that happens here happens because it benefits you. Everything that we do is for the country. The country comes first, always.” Seunghyun opened his mouth to say something, but the King spoke before he could. “It doesn’t matter what Jiyong has to say about it. It doesn’t_ matter _what makes him_ happy _. What matters is, first and foremost, the country. Always. Are we clear?”_

_“You’re going to destroy him, if you continue like this. By the time he’s able to take the throne, he’s going to be nothing but a shell of himself. You’re_ killing _your son, your_ child _, and you don’t even care.” Seunghyun got to his feet slowly, and the King allowed it, didn’t so much as blink when Seunghyun moved._

_“I didn’t have a son because I wanted to. I had a son because my country demanded it of me. My country needs my son. He knows his duty. He knows what he must do, in the future, and when the time comes for him to take that throne, he will do it, without hesitation. The country comes first. The country will always come first, for him, and the same had best be true for you.”_

_Seunghyun heard someone – Jiyong, because who else would it be – moving around in the hallway, about two seconds before he knocked on the door. Without breaking eye contact with the King, he stepped backwards, and turned the handle, let Jiyong into the room. He didn’t say a word, and neither did the King, and after a few moments, Jiyong wrapped his fingers around Seunghyun’s wrist, squeezing gently. “What’s going on?”_

_“Nothing. We were just… chatting.” Jiyong frowned, looked between the two of them for a moment, inhaling slowly. “Go back to sleep. You look exhausted.”_

_After a few seconds, Jiyong shook his head slowly. “You go. I—I want to talk to my father. Alone.” He squeezed Seunghyun’s wrist again, then released him. After a moment, Seunghyun nodded slowly, and stepped away, walking out of the office and shutting the door behind him._

_Waiting in the hallway was one of Jiyong’s servants. He sucked in a quiet breath when he saw Seunghyun, worry lighting up in his eyes, and after a few seconds, Seunghyun spoke, voice quiet. “He’ll be okay.” The servant swallowed hard, then nodded slowly. “Let’s get out of here.” He led him down the hallway, until they were safely out of earshot. “What’s your name?”_

_“Jungguk.”_

_Seunghyun nodded slowly. “Jungguk, I know that you care about him. I know that you want him safe.” After a few seconds, Jungguk nodded. “I also know that you know that letting his father find out just how much you care about him is going to get you killed, and him hurt._

_“Yes.”_

_“I’m not going to tell you not to care about him, because we both know that Jiyong could stand to have a few more people really, truly care about him, but I am going to tell you to be careful. I don’t want you dead.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent as much time trying to fix the formatting on this as I did actually writing it.


	4. Chapter 4

Jiyong woke with a start, a split second before he felt Seunghyun roll away from him, heard his husband get to his feet. When Seunghyun glanced back at him, their gazes locked, a silent message passing between them, before Jiyong rose from where he was lying. Seunghyun held out his hand, and Jiyong passed him the dagger that he held, before another blade slid into his hand. “You remember what I taught you?”

Seunghyun sheathed the dagger that he was holding. “Yes, my love.”

The corner of Jiyong’s mouth tugged up into a smile, as they made their way along the cliff ledge. Seunghyun could see the blade spinning through Jiyong’s fingers, flashing slightly in the dim light. After a few moments, Jiyong held out his other hand, and Seunghyun took it, allowed Jiyong to pull him closer. “Put your arm around my waist.” Seunghyun obeyed without a word and that was when he felt the hilt of the blade at Jiyong’s waist, hidden under his jacket. “You hear them?”

“Yeah.” Seunghyun turned his head to press his mouth to Jiyong’s shoulder, then spoke quietly into Jiyong’s ear. “Three?”

“Two.”

“No, there’s three.” Seunghyun nosed at his shoulder gently, then kissed his ear. “Two behind us, one ahead.” Jiyong nodded slowly, and after a few seconds, Jiyong shot him a look. Seunghyun smiled, then spun on his heel, taking the dagger on Jiyong’s waist with him. It flashed through the air, impaling one of the individuals following them. He fell to the ground, and after he did, his companion froze, for a few seconds, then charged towards them.

Seunghyun heard Jiyong moving behind him, but didn’t so much as glance back, the second dagger in his hand now. Before he could throw it, the second attacker had swung a staff through the air, and it cracked across Seunghyun’s face, a sharp lance of pain driving through his cheekbone. He dropped to the ground, and the next thing he knew, his attacker was on top of him, trying to pry the dagger out of his hand. He was wearing a mask, Seunghyun couldn’t make out his face, but he could—ah, there it was, glinting gold underneath his black cloak.

“Jiyong—”

He cut off when he heard a loud thump behind him. A moment later, he appeared over Seunghyun, dragging the attacker back by the back of his cloak. He threw him to the ground, kicked his staff away, then crouched, pressed the edge of his dagger along the underside of his jaw. “You work for my father, don’t you?”

“Oh, what’s it to you—yes, yes, I do!” Jiyong nodded slowly, pressing the dagger closer. The man on the ground went very still, gazing up at him with wide eyes. “Just kill me.”

“No.” Jiyong pulled the dagger away, then dragged the man to his feet. “The Shadow King will want to hear what you have to say.” The man swallowed, audibly, and Jiyong smirked, then pressed the dagger to his temple, digging it into his skin, drawing blood. He didn’t make a sound, as the blood ran down the side of his face. “Tell my father,” he paused, still smirking, “that if he wants me dead, he’s going to have to try a little bit harder than that.” When he pulled the dagger away, the man was trembling. “And deliver this to my brother.” He handed the dagger to the man, who took it without a word, paling visibly. “Go on, now.”

He darted off without a word, leaving them alone on the cliff.

Jiyong startled when he felt Seunghyun’s hand on his wrist but didn’t try to pull away. “Are you okay?” Jiyong nodded slowly, leaned into Seunghyun’s body. “Mhm.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.” Seunghyun kissed the top of his head, then took his hand. “I won’t make you. But I’m here, if you change your mind. You know that.” Jiyong nodded again, then pulled Seunghyun along with him. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.”

As they continued forward, Jiyong gradually relaxed, tension leaving his shoulders. He was still holding Seunghyun’s hand, squeezing his fingers gently. They made their way along the cliff, walking for what felt like hours, until Jiyong yawned, leaning heavily into Seunghyun’s side.

“We should stop.”

“We have to keep moving—”

“Jiyong. We need to stop.” Jiyong should his head, and made to continue, but Seunghyun yanked him to a halt. “You _know_ how I feel about this. About you intentionally running yourself ragged like this.” Jiyong was glaring at him, but after a moment, he relented, allowed Seunghyun to pull him into a hug. “We need to sleep. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“I know you’re pissy about it, my love, but you’ll thank me in the morning.” Jiyong sniffed delicately, and Seunghyun kissed his forehead, then pulled him down to the ground, into his lap. “But if you don’t want to go to sleep just yet, I can think of a few things we could do.”

“Yeah?” Jiyong shifted, to straddle Seunghyun’s thighs. “Like what?” He leaned in closer, to kiss Seunghyun gently, then wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Mm.”

“You’re so pretty.” Seunghyun’s arms wrapped around his hands around Jiyong’s hips, squeezing gently, thumbs sliding underneath his shirt gently. “I love you, so very much. I don’t ever want to lose you.” Jiyong smiled, then kissed Seunghyun again. “You know,” Seunghyun paused, examining Jiyong closely, “you looked really badass.”

Jiyong blushed. “No—”

“Mhm. It was super hot.” Seunghyun leaned down to kiss his neck gently, nipping at his skin lightly. “ _You_ are super hot. Always. But sometimes, when you… when you do that whole _Crown-Prince-of-Kazir_ thing? It’s scary, but it’s literally _so_ hot.” Jiyong hummed softly, rolling his hips gently, grinding down against Seunghyun’s crotch. “My love, you’re the absolute hottest thing in the world. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Oh, shut up—”

“No, absolutely not. I won’t. It’s true, all of it.”

“I _know_ that it’s true, honey, I just don’t want you to fucking _say_ it, it’s so _embarrassing_ , you’re so embarrassing—” Seunghyun cut him off by kissing him, hand moving to cradle Jiyong’s jaw gently. “ _Fuck_ , Seunghyun, I want—”

“Mm, I know. I know.” He moved, to press Jiyong down into the ground, pinning him in place. His fingers wrapped around Jiyong’s wrists, and he ground forward, their hips sliding together. Jiyong gasped, squirming underneath him, trying to thrust his hips up against Seunghyun’s. “Breathe, my love, relax. I’ll give you what you want, I just need you to be patient for me.”

“I want—Seunghyun, I want to, please—”

“Shh, I know. Relax. Breathe.” Jiyong nodded quickly, pressing his face into Seunghyun’s shoulder, biting at his shoulder gently. “There you go, it’s okay. Relax, my love.” Seunghyun grabbed both of Jiyong’s wrists in one hand, pinning them over his head, his free hand touching Jiyong’s jaw gently. “Keep your hands there, okay?” Jiyong nodded quickly, as Seunghyun released his wrists, reached down to tug his shirt over his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much.” Jiyong arched slightly, squirming, and Seunghyun chuckled.

“Relax. Just relax for me, okay?” Jiyong nodded, as Seunghyun bent down, mouth latching onto Jiyong’s jaw, hands drifting to his waist, thumbs rubbing firmly at his hipbones. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” Seunghyun murmured the words against his jaw, as his fingers pulled Jiyong’s pants down. “My perfect and gorgeous husband, I love you so very much.”

“Seunghyun, just—”

“Mm?”

“Get _on_ with it.” Seunghyun chuckled quietly, as he bit down on Jiyong’s neck, sucking hard on the skin. That would bruise nicely. “You are such a _tease_ , gods above, can you please just— _oh_.” He gasped quietly when Seunghyun’s fingers wrapped around his cock, gentle. “Oh, okay. Okay, okay. Fuck—”

“Is that what you wanted, baby doll?” Jiyong didn’t speak, head tilting back with a silent, open-mouthed gasp. He had gone perfectly still underneath Seunghyun, fists unclenching. “Hm?”

“I—y-yeah, Seunghyun, _please_.”

Seunghyun smiled against his jaw, then nipped at his skin once again. “You’ll get what you want, baby, I promise. I just need you to be patient for a little bit longer, okay? Can you do that?”

“I’m not—yes. Yes, I can, I can be patient, please, Seunghyun, _please_ , just—”

“Jiyong, doll, relax for me. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m right here.” Jiyong nodded quickly, biting back a high-pitched noise in his throat. “Calm down, baby.”

“I—I’m calm. I’m okay. I’m fine—” Jiyong cut off with a yelp when Seunghyun bit him again, on the other side of his neck. “O-oh, oh, okay, yes, yeah, okay, I’m more than fine, yep.” Seunghyun laughed quietly against his throat, then licked over the mark that he had left. “I’m _great_. Mhm, can you please just—please?”

Seunghyun was still laughing when he pulled back, grinning down at Jiyong. “You’re so cute, my love. Absolutely adorable, I love you so much, my precious doll.”

“You—I thought that you thought that I was _hot_ , not _cute_.”

Seunghyun snorted, then leaned back down, to capture Jiyong’s lips in a fierce kiss, grinding his hips forward against Jiyong’s thigh. “Mm, you are. You’re so hot, baby, and so cute. At the same time. You’re beautiful and gorgeous and adorable and sexy as fuck, and I love you.”

Jiyong squirmed, thrusting up into Seunghyun’s hand, his own hands curling into fists. He still hadn’t moved them, which was good, but Seunghyun knew that that control wouldn’t last long. “I—Seunghyun, can you _please_ fuck me now? Please?”

Seunghyun kissed him again, sweet and gentle. “Of course, my love. Since you asked me so nicely.” He paused, examining Jiyong’s face, then the marks that he had left on his neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby doll.”

***

“ _What brings you to the Shadow Blades?_ ”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

_Yoongi turned his head, to look at the man standing behind him. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, fingers curling around it delicately. The man behind him was shifting nervously, eyes on the floor. “Exactly what I said: why are you here? Why do you want to be here, with us?_ ”

“ _I—_ ”

“ _Because, if your answer is: ‘because of my loyalty to the Crown,’ then you’re wrong. If the answer is: ‘because it’s my duty,’ then you’re wrong.” Yoongi turned, to look fully at the other man, who was now watching him closely. “You have to want it. You have to care about it. You have to care about this job, about your fellow Blades, and about your Crown._ ”

“ _I do—I do care, about—_ ”

“ _Mhm. I’m sure you do.” Yoongi came towards him, head cocked to the side in thought. “Are you scared, Jungguk?”_

“ _N-no.” The tremble in his voice, along with the look on his face, gave him away. “I’m_ not. _I’m not scared.”_

“ _Poor thing. You’re so very young.” Jungguk made a noise of protest, but Yoongi shot him a disapproving look. “They plucked you straight out of the Academy, didn’t they? Picked you out and sent you to the capital, sent you to_ me _, and now, now you’re starting to think that maybe you’re a little bit out of your depth._ ”

“ _That’s not true—_ ”

“ _Mm. Maybe you don’t agree yet, Jungguk, but let me assure you: I’ve seen hundreds of kids like you come into the Shadow Blades. You want to know how many are left?” After a few seconds, Jungguk nodded, worry starting to blossom in his eyes. “There’s six, including me. Seven if you include Prince Jiyong.” He could see the wheels in Jungguk’s head turning as he did the math. His odds weren’t exactly good._

“ _I’m still not scared._ ”

Yes, he was. He was terrified _, the poor thing. Poor, fragile little thing. “Jungguk, the moment that you find a reason within yourself to join the Shadow Blades, then you can. That’s how you get in.” He stepped away from Jungguk, and walked back towards where he had been standing, listening intently to Jungguk’s breathing. “You’re dismissed. Come see me when you think you’re ready.”_

“ _I_ am _ready.”_

_Yoongi turned slowly. When he met Jungguk’s gaze again, he cocked his head to the side slightly, frowning. “You aren’t. You most certainly are not.” Jungguk opened his mouth, probably to argue, but Yoongi cut him off. “Enough. You need to go.”_

***

“What did you mean?”

“Hm?”

Jungguk approached the desk quickly, placed his palms on it, and leaned across, so he could meet Yoongi’s eyes. “You told me, when I first came to the palace, that I wasn’t ready, that I wasn’t ready to be a Shadow Blade. You told me to come back when I thought I was ready.”

“I did.” Yoongi sat back in his chair, examining Jungguk closely. “I meant exactly what I said: you were not ready. You were not ready then, you were not ready the second time you came to me, nor the third, and if I had had any say in the matter, I wouldn’t have taken you the forth time you came, because you _still_ weren’t ready. You still _aren’t_ ready.” Jungguk opened his mouth to speak, but Yoongi cut him off. “There’s a reason that you were the only one told to leave Kazir. There’s a reason that Jiyong fought so hard to make sure that you got out alive. He knew – just as I did, just as we all did – that you weren’t meant to be one of us.

“And that isn’t to say, Jungguk, that you are not strong, and powerful, and passionate, and incredible at what you do, and all of those things that they paint the Shadow Blades as; it merely means that you were not destined to be one of our kind.” Yoongi fell silent, gazing up at Jungguk.

“No?”

“No. I would make the same judgement of you that I made all those years ago. The Shadow Blades are not your destiny. You were not meant to be the monster that I would have made you, the murderer that I _did_ make you.” After a moment, Yoongi reached for the dagger strapped to his chest, and placed it on the desk between them. “Little one, you were not meant to be a monster. That much was obvious the first time that you stepped into this office. And one of my biggest regrets is the fact that I tried to make you one.”

“You never—”

“Ah, but I did. I did try.” Yoongi’s voice had turned gentle, soothing. Jungguk had heard that particular tone before, the first time that he had succeeded at besting Yoongi in combat. It had only happened the once, and he was more than familiar with how quickly gentle and soothing could become sharp and venomous. “That’s what I do, little one. I train monsters. I take normal, ordinary people, like all Shadow Blades once were, and I strip away their humanity, I transform them into the worst – and best – form of themselves. That’s exactly what I did, to Seokjin, and Namjoon, and Hoseok, and Jimin, and Taehyung, and it’s what I tried to do to you, and for that, Jungguk, I am so very sorry.”

“You—you were just following orders—”

“I know. I know.” He paused, brows drawing together slightly. After a few moments, his face relaxed, into something easy and calm and somehow more terrifying than before. “Jungguk, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed what I did, I enjoy what I _do_.”

“I—”

“I wouldn’t change my orders for the world.”

“Yoongi—”

“I’m sorry, Jungguk.”

“What do you mean? What are you—Yoongi, what have you _done_?”

Yoongi bowed his head, as he picked up the dagger, turning it over in his fingers. “You were right, you know, I do have orders.” He paused for a moment. “Part of those orders include reporting traitors to the Crown.”

“You—no. No, no no no, you _didn’t_ , Yoongi, _no_.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. After a few moments, Jungguk heard the door open, but he didn’t turn, holding Yoongi’s gaze. “Little one, you knew that it was stupid to come back here. You knew that it was stupid to come anywhere near Kazir, what with how things ended the last time you were in Kazir. And the time before that. Really, you should have known that this was coming.”

Jungguk stiffened when he felt hands wrap around his upper arms, but he didn’t struggle, didn’t fight. He was numb. “Yoongi, I _trusted_ you—”

“A mistake, on your end. I am a Shadow Blade; you of all people know not to trust people like me.”

“You—”

“You’ll be taken to the dungeons of the palace. Your trial will occur within the month, though I’ll admit that there’s not much hope for you. You’ll likely be found guilty and executed in the city square not long after the trial. But, of course, you already knew that. You’ve executed a fair number of traitors in your time, have you not?” Yoongi’s expression was mild, his voice cool.

The person – people – holding Jungguk turned, pulling him with them. They started towards the door, but before they got there, it opened. Jungguk paled, when he saw the Prince – Jiyong’s little brother, the now-Crown Prince of Kazir – standing there.

“I’ll take it from here, shall I, Yoongi?”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Certainly, your—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence, before a cold, strange, yet somehow familiar voice rang out through the room.

“You will do no such thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, and I don't like it that much, but it's been a h o t m i n u t e since i updated this.


	5. Chapter 5

The Prince turned on his heel slowly, to face the person who had spoken. He was still smirking, but when he saw the newcomer, his jaw clenched furiously. “ _You_ are not welcome here. You have absolutely no power here—”

“Oh, stuff it, Youngbae.” Minseok walked past Youngbae, towards Jungguk, leaving Jongdae in the doorway. After a few moments, the guards holding Jungguk stepped away, and Minseok put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from them. “Jongdae, get him out of here.”

Jongdae nodded once, and he and Jungguk left the room a moment later. Minseok turned his attention to Youngbae, then, and smiled at him, perfectly pleasant. “Are you quite finished?”

“Absolutely _not_ , he doesn’t belong to you, he isn’t part of Eishta, he’s from Kazir, and that means—” He cut off when Minseok yawned, fuming. “You can’t just—”

Minseok laughed quietly, then folded his arms over his chest. “You might not think so, Youngbae, but your father certainly does.” Something furious burned in Youngbae’s eyes, and he opened his mouth to argue, but Minseok cut him off. “As far as your father knows – or perhaps, I should say, as far as he _cares_ – about the matter, Jungguk belongs in Eishta. He serves me, not you. And that means that he will be coming home with me.”

“I won’t—”

“You don’t exactly get a choice.” Youngbae made a quiet, offended noise in his throat, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Minseok had spoken again. “You might have replaced Jiyong as the Crown Prince of Kazir, but don’t think for a second that you have even a quarter of the power that your brother did. Your father has leaned not to trust his children so easily; after all, look how that ended for him last time.”

“You know _nothing_ about—”

Minseok’s smile widened, turned mocking. “Sure. Sure, let’s assume that that’s the case. Even if I don’t know anything about _you_ , I do know about your father, and about your brother, and there’s a lot that I can infer from there, especially given what happened between us all those months ago.”

“Oh, absolutely _not_ , no, this—”

“Oh, hush, your Highness. This isn’t going to reflect poorly on you. It’s not going to reflect poorly on any of you.” He looked at Yoongi for a moment, then started towards the door. “Oh, and Youngbae? I do look forward to discussing that treaty with you next month.”

“I—yes. The feeling’s mutual.”

Minseok laughed as he left the room. Jongdae and Jungguk were waiting in the hallway, and when he stepped out of the room, Jongdae smiled brightly. “How did it go?”

“I was right.” Minseok started down the hallway, the others following behind him. “We’ll discuss it in further depth when we return to Eishta, but I was right, about the King and his relationship with his children.” Jongdae snickered quietly.

When Jungguk spoke, his words were quiet, voice trembling slightly. “I—your Majesty, I don’t think you fully understand the—the way that the King treated – treats – his children.” Minseok didn’t stop walking, but he did falter slightly, before continuing. “He might have trusted Jiyong more than he trusts Youngbae, but—I mean, that trust wasn’t exactly the result of a positive relationship. If you… if you know what I mean?”

Minseok came to a quick halt, whirling about to face Jungguk. There was something akin to worry on his face. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“I mean, I got kidnapped before it was relevant six months ago, and then it _wasn’t_ relevant, and by the time it was relevant again, I was here, in Kazir, and you were at home, so—Minseok, what was I _supposed_ to do? I did everything that I—”

“Well, not going to Kazir would have been a good start.” Jungguk huffed when Jongdae spoke but didn’t argue. “It was reckless and stupid and you could have been _killed_ , Jungguk. You think we want to see you dead?” Jungguk opened his mouth to say something, but Jongdae stopped him with a look. “Enough people have gotten hurt in this conflict. We really don’t need to add any more of our people to that number.”

“That’s not fair.”

“ _Life_ isn’t fair—”

“No, I mean—Minseok, you sent other spies to Kazir. You sent other _people_ to Kazir, not just spies. You’re not upset that I ended up here, because you know that I learned things; you’re upset that I went without your permission.” Minseok frowned, but continued on his way down the hallway, the other two following behind him. “You’re—I’m _sorry_ , Minseok, but I—they’re my friends, or—they were. They were my friends. And I wanted—I wanted to make sure that they were okay.”

“Jiyong sent you, didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t—don’t give me that look, he _didn’t_. He was the one who mentioned that maybe something was happening, but it was my idea to come here. Jiyong very specifically told me not to come here.”

“Well, good on him, but—”

“I _know_ that coming to Kazir was stupid, Minseok, I’m more than aware! But I—this is my home. This will always be my home and Yoongi and Hoseok were my family, and I needed to make sure that they were okay, because my—the rest of the Shadow Blades are dead. The rest of my _family_ is dead. How was I supposed to handle that?”

“Not like this! Calmly, maybe? And at the very least, would it have _killed_ you to let me know that you were doing this? Do you know how much work I had to do to find out where you had gone?” Minseok threw the doors to the palace open, and walked outside, where a carriage was waiting for them. “Jungguk, I’m really not interested in hearing your arguments. We just—we just need to get home.”

“I know that. I’m more than aware—”

“Then get in the carriage. Let’s _go_.”

***

When Kris found Joonmyun, he was in the library. Joonmyun was seated by a window, staring out at the mountains. There was a strange tension in his shoulders, something that Kris really didn’t like. He didn’t seem to realize that Kris was there.

Kris hoped to every god whose name he knew that he never stopped being blown away by how beautiful Joonmyun was.

After a few moments of staring, he crossed the room slowly, came to stand behind Joonmyun, who turned slowly, a small, sad smile on his face. Kris leaned down to kiss him gently, one hand sliding into his hair gently. “Something on your mind, princess?” Joonmyun shook his head once, and turned back to the window, as Kris sat down beside him. “Are you sure?”

“I got a letter from Sehun the other day,” he said, voice flat. Something was wrong; something was very, _very_ wrong. Kris had only ever heard that tone once before, and he knew that he didn’t like it. “He had a meeting with… Minseok, and Jongdae, about a week ago, and they… they were planning on heading to Kazir. Apparently, Jungguk—you remember, Minseok’s servant—went to Kazir, to investigate… something. The death of the Shadow Blades, maybe, I don’t really know. But he ran into trouble—which was to be expected, it’s Kazir.”

Kris hummed softly, still nosing at Joonmyun’s hair. After a few moments, he wrapped an arm around Joonmyun’s waist, pulling him into his lap. Joonmyun squirmed for a moment, before he spoke again. “Kris, am I the only one who thinks that maybe this whole thing with Kazir isn’t done? That maybe it _wasn’t_ done?”

“I think,” Kris paused, examining Joonmyun closely, “that you were the only one who acknowledged the little voice in the back of your head that was telling you that it wasn’t. I think that you were—are—the only one who was willing to look past the relative peace that we’ve had for the last six months.” Joonmyun exhaled quietly, and Kris smiled. “I think that, in the short time that you were with the Shadow King, you learned a great deal about who he is as a person. I think that you’re the only one who recognized the extent to which he would go to come out victorious.”

“He wants us dead. Me, especially, because of what I did.” Kris hummed quietly. “He wants Jiyong and Seunghyun back, if for no other reason than to kill them. He wants to destroy Eliria and Eishta and Sivalia, and the Dark Crown and the White Crown and the Crown of Steel. He wants to rip the world apart and put it back together in Kazir’s image, so that he and the Shadow Crown can reign eternal.”

“We fought him off once.”

“We _didn’t_ , Kris. We might have talked him out of a war six months ago, but that doesn’t mean he’s been dissuaded from the idea of war. He’s just… exceptionally good at biding his time. Waiting. Holding back, for as long as he needs to.” Joonmyun stood quickly, pulling out of Kris’ grip, and starting towards a small table, where a book was open. “No one wins a war against the Shadow Crown. Survives, maybe. But _wins_? No. No one, ever.”

“That doesn’t mean that we can’t.”

“Kris—Kris, that righteous, good-will-always-prevail attitude is wonderful and charming, but you have to understand that if we go to war with Kazir, we will lose. We cannot win against them.” Joonmyun took a deep breath, trembling, before he spoke again, voice quiet. “I’m going to Sivalia. I need to see my brother.”

“You’re the King, just as much as I am, Joonmyun. You don’t need my permission.”

“I know that,” Joonmyun snapped, eyes flashing violet for a split second, before fading. He leaned back against the bookshelf behind him, exhaling quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset.” Kris rose to his feet and came to stand by Joonmyun. He placed a hand on his jaw, tipping his head back, to press a kiss to his mouth. “Please take care of yourself.” Joonmyun nodded once, sighing softly when Kris kissed him again. “Come back to me, alive and unharmed.” Another nod. “Promise me.”

“I promise. I’ll come back to you, just as I am now.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Kris chuckled quietly, then kissed Joonmyun’s forehead. “While you’re gone,” he paused, holding Joonmyun’s gaze. “I’m going to find out where Yixing and Zitao went. We’re going to need them on our side, as you know.” Joonmyun nodded slowly. “If you see Jiyong or Seunghyun, I—please make sure that they’re okay.”

“I will.”

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, before Joonmyun spoke again, voice soft, fragile. “We won’t be able to talk our way out of a war this time, will we?” Kris looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “Okay. I’ll—I’ll—okay. I think—” He cut off, hands running through his hair. “I… can we… war council? Tonight?”

“I’ll send word. Sundown.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll—I’ll hold off, on going to Sivalia, until after that. And I’ll… I’ll see if I can’t convince Minseok to go as well. Or Jongdae.” Joonmyun exhaled, trying to keep his face neutral. “Find Yixing and Tao, if you can. If not… if not, I think Jongin might be able to, if we can convince him to leave Kyungsoo’s side for more than two seconds.” Kris snorted quietly. “I just… I wish I knew how to get in touch with Jiyong and Seunghyun. But there really isn’t a good way to… to find them, other than to scour the entirety of the continent.”

“If I find Yixing, I’ll talk to him about it. If he can’t do something about it, he’ll know someone who can.” Joonmyun nodded once, then slid his arms around Kris’ neck, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. “Mm. I love you. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes. I—I need to be alone, I think, until then. I need to think.”

“I understand.” One more kiss, chaste and gentle. “I look forward to hearing your brilliant strategy, my King.” Kris tried to pull away, but Joonmyun’s grip tightened. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Think hard.”

“I will. You do the same.” A moment passed, then Joonmyun released Kris. Kris smiled at him, then took his hand, raising it to his mouth to press a kiss to the ring on Joonmyun’s finger. “We can win?”

“We can. It will be hard and we are going to struggle for it, but we can win this war.” Kris paused, holding Joonmyun’s gaze. “We don’t have much of a choice.”

***

“Seunghyun?”

He turned, to look at Jiyong, who was standing about ten feet behind him, eyes on the ocean before them. There was a ship in the harbor of the town not a hundred feet to their left, that would take them across it. It was leaving soon.

“Jiyong.”

“I think—” Jiyong cut off, then motioned Seunghyun closer. He closed the gap between them, one hand gripping Jiyong’s waist easily. “I think we should go back.”

“Back where?”

Jiyong exhaled quietly, leaning into Seunghyun’s body. “Not to Kazir. We couldn’t go back there even if we wanted to.” He paused, just breathing in Seunghyun’s scent, one hand curling in his shirt, holding him against his body. “To Eliria? Or Sivalia, or even Eishta, if you wanted. I just… not _away_ , not where our friends can’t reach us, if they need help.”

Jiyong turned his head, eyes finding the crows not far from them easily. How strange. Generally, as he understood it, crows didn’t live this far from Eliria’s capitol.

“Seunghyun?”

“Yes?”

“Something’s been bothering me, about this whole… arrangement, that Joonmyun reached with my father.” Seunghyun hummed softly, as Jiyong’s other hand came up to grip his shirt as well. “You knew the Shadow King well. Perhaps not as well as Youngbae or I did, but you knew him well enough.” Seunghyun nodded slowly. He seemed to sense where Jiyong was going with this line of thought. “Does the Shadow King seem like the kind of person to give up that easily?”

A beat of silence, then, “no.”

Jiyong’s eyes narrowed slightly, as he gazed at the crows. There was something… off, about them, some unnatural gleam in their eyes. “I didn’t think so, either.” He pulled back, to look at Seunghyun. “So, why did he? Why did he let all of us go without a fight?” Seunghyun’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t answer. Jiyong cocked his head to the side, then turned his attention back to the crows. “He wanted a war. You and I both knew that. He wanted to destroy the Empire.”

“He did. He never failed to inform me of that fact.”

“So why… why stop the war, why _agree_ to stop the war, if that was what he wanted so badly?” Jiyong released Seunghyun, hand sliding into his pocket, to draw out a dagger. After a few seconds, he pulled his arm back, then threw it, the blade arcing through the air towards the crows. One of them let out a raucous noise, and the entire group scattered into the air. The dagger landed on the ground, right where they had been. “I have a theory.”

“Mm?”

“It’s always about the country. Never about the individual.” Seunghyun nodded slowly; he’d heard the very same thing from the Shadow King often enough. “Because as a country, we are strong, and individuals are insignificant on their own.” Jiyong walked to pick up his dagger, then turned. Most of the crows had regrouped, but there was one who stood a little ways away, head bent to pick at something on the ground. “As a country, united, we are strong. We can watch out for each other, make sure that we are undefeatable.” Seunghyun inhaled slowly, as he grasped exactly what Jiyong was saying. “But when we are alone,” he paused, pointing towards the lone crow with his dagger, “we are weak, and vulnerable, and utterly, destroyable.”

He looked at Seunghyun, a terrifying look on his face. In that moment, Seunghyun was taken back, to all that time ago, when Jiyong—his Jiyong—had been nothing more than the heir to the Shadow Throne. “My father was scared.” Jiyong smirked slightly, a dangerous look in his eyes. “My father knew, in that moment, that if he pushed, we would fight. We would fight, and he and Yoongi and what remained of the Shadow Blades, would all be killed. And if there was one thing he couldn’t allow, it was the death of the Crown. He wanted time, to reset his plan. And now, he’s had it.”

“You think he’s going to try something?”

“Oh, I think he’s already trying something. I think he’s been trying something since before our friends walked into that dining room. I think that this… this game, that he’s playing, the waiting and the patience and the supposed peace, has been brilliant—albeit last minute—modification to his plans for a war.” Jiyong trailed off for a moment, gaze returning to the crow. It was watching them, now. “And if I’m right about this, if I’m right about his game and his plan and him,” Jiyong paused, a strange look appearing in his eyes for a moment, before fading. “then our friends need us now, more than they ever did before.”

“So, we go back. Where?”

“Eliria is closest.” Seunghyun nodded once. “We go to Joonmyun and Kris. We tell them, about… about my father, and about my family, and about the demons.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And then we stay with them. We stand with them. We do whatever they need us to do, in order to end this.” He turned his gaze—dark, predatory, furious—on Seunghyun. “And we will end this. _I_ will end this, if it kills me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this has been sitting in my files, finished, for like... two weeks? oops??


	6. Chapter 6

“Yoongi?”

“Hoseok. Come in.” Yoongi rose from where he was sitting as Hoseok slipped into the office, shutting the door behind him. He crossed the room slowly, to stand in front of Yoongi, visibly agitated. Something had happened today, something that had upset him. If Yoongi had to guess, it was something to do with the King. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s—I talked to the King, today, and he—he told me something.” Hoseok bowed his head, shifting awkwardly in place, hands shoved into his pockets. “We were talking about the Shadow Blades, because obviously, it’s, you know, just the two of us left. I mean, Jungguk and Ji—and the former Crown Prince are both also technically Shadow Blades, but they don’t—they aren’t here anymore, you know?”

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

“Anyway, we were talking about the future of the Blades. And, I don’t know, I guess I had just kind of assumed that we would just train more.” Yoongi hummed quietly, as he reached out to wrap his fingers around Hoseok’s wrist, leading him across the room, towards a low, long table. “He said that once the two of us are done, so are the Blades. Is that true?”

Yoongi didn’t answer immediately, arm winding around Hoseok’s waist casually. Hoseok leaned into him easily, body relaxing into Yoongi’s without hesitation. That had happened a few times, now; Hoseok had come to him seeking… something, Yoongi wasn’t sure what. Comfort, maybe. Yoongi knew that it wasn’t professional, he was well-aware, but he couldn’t help himself.

After a long moment of silence, he gestured to the table. On it lay four daggers, each one with a pristine black blade, wicked sharp. The dark iron hilts gleamed, even in the darkness, and the deep red rubies embedded therein winked back at them when the angle was right. “When each of you passed your Trials, and joined the Shadow Blades fully, you were given a dagger. A blade.” Hoseok nodded once; he knew that, he had been there. His training had been the quickest; it needed to be, it had happened while he was supposed to be on a mission for Minseok and the Dark Crown. “I crafted each of these by hand. That’s why, you’ll notice, none of you had the exact same blade.”

That, Hoseok hadn’t been aware of. They looked similar enough, from a distance, and the only one he’d really seen up close was his own. “Oh.”

“There is some truth in what the King says. If—and when—I pass, the Shadow Blades will be no more. My duty, under the Shadow Crown, was the lead and train and command the Blades, and when I am no longer here to do that, they will no longer exist.” Hoseok nodded, turning his head slightly when Yoongi reached into his jacket, to pull a dagger free. It was Yoongi’s, Hoseok had seen it only once before. “When all of the Shadow Blades have passed, their weapons will be locked into a case and taken to the temple of Shade.”

“What about—”

“We will find Jimin’s body, and his dagger, and they will be delivered to their rightful places. His body will be burned, and his ashes will join those of the other Blades, and his dagger will come to me,” Yoongi murmured, then stowed his own blade. “And when you die, your ashes will go to the temple, your blade will go here,” he gestured to the table, “and your memory will live here.” He tapped his temple once, and Hoseok looked away quickly.

Yoongi stepped away from him when they heard a knock at the door. “Come in.” The door opened slowly, and there, standing in the doorway, was Youngbae. “Your Highness.”

“Yoongi.” After a moment, Youngbae stepped into the room, and walked towards them. He was holding something in his hand, and as he drew closer, Hoseok recognized it as a blade.

A very, very familiar blade. “Is that—”

“Mm.” Youngbae held it out to Yoongi, who took it in his hands without a word, delicate fingers turning it over once, then twice, before he looked up at Youngbae. “We sent spies after him. He killed all but one, sent the survivor back here with this. And a message, for my father, but I don’t know what it was.” Yoongi nodded slowly, as he held the dagger up to the light. “Yoongi?”

“My Prince.”

“What does it mean?”

Yoongi didn’t look at him. Instead, his gaze fell on Hoseok, who bit his lower lip, before facing the Prince. “It means…” he trailed off, glancing at Yoongi for a split second, before looking at Youngbae again, squaring his shoulders. “Your Highness, it means that he’s coming for you. He has made a promise, that he will find you, and he will kill you.”

“He can’t come back to Kazir—”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t. A Shadow Blade’s promise is a very dangerous thing. We are… very unwilling to break them. Especially that kind of promise,” Hoseok nodded towards the blade in Yoongi’s hand. “Your Highness—”

“Hoseok.” He looked at Yoongi quickly. “You’ll stay with the Prince. If Jiyong comes back, if he does follow through with his promise and come back to kill his brother, you will be the one in his way. You will stop him, if he tries to do what he has said he will do.”

“Yes.”

“Your Highness, if I may have a word alone with my Shadow Blade.” Youngbae nodded once, then slipped out of the room, leaving Hoseok and Yoongi alone. They looked at each other for a moment, before Yoongi held out his arms. Hoseok stepped into them without a word, leaning into Yoongi easily. “When he comes—and he will, you and I both know him well enough to know that he’s going to keep this promise if it kills him—you will end him.” Hoseok nodded into Yoongi’s chest. “When he comes for our Prince, you will tear him apart.”

“Yes. I will, you have my word.”

“Excellent.” Yoongi’s fingers slid into Hoseok’s hair for a moment, then pulled away. “Keep your wits about you.”

“Of course.”

“Go, now.” As Hoseok pulled back, Yoongi touched a hand to his face, and Hoseok smiled at him. “The legacy of the Shadow Blades belongs as much to you as it does to me. Make me proud.”

“I will.”

As Hoseok slipped out of the room, Yoongi once again turned his attention back to the line of blades in front of him. He still held Jiyong’s in one hand, and in his jacket, he could feel Jungguk’s resting against his chest.

He had never had to retire the dagger of a living Blade before.

After a few moments, he laid Jiyong’s dagger out with the rest. Jiyong had never been the best Shadow Blade, because his duties to the Crown often drew him away from his duties as a Blade, but he had been strong. Strong and capable and every bit the King that he had been born to be. It was a shame that things would end the way they were going to.

He slipped Jungguk’s blade out of his pocket, and examined it. Jungguk… Jungguk had been something special. The only Blade that Yoongi had taken on unwillingly, because he was young, and because he hadn’t been able to tell Yoongi why he wanted this.

Yoongi knew now that it was because he hadn’t wanted it. Not in the way that the others had wanted it. Jungguk had become a Blade because it was what his King had demanded of him.

He had made it through training. He had passed the Trials, and claimed his blade, and done as good a job as any of the others had, in that time. But it hadn’t sat right with him, Yoongi had seen that much. And that was why he had made the decision that he did. There wasn’t a lot that he regretted; letting Jungguk go was one of those things.

He had gone to Jiyong, late one night, and explained to him the situation. Jungguk wasn’t ready, Jungguk wasn’t made for this, Jungguk didn’t belong. And Jiyong… well. Jiyong had cared very much for Jungguk. That was one of the many things that he and Yoongi had in common. So, they had agreed; Jungguk would be sent away, out of Kazir. If he had left the Blades, and stayed in Kazir, he would have been killed.

And then he had come back. He had come back, to make sure that Yoongi and Hoseok were okay. Because his loyalty was, always, to Yoongi first.

Yoongi sighed quietly, before sheathing Jungguk’s blade under his jacket again. He wasn’t ready to let that one go, not yet, not while Jungguk still had Yoongi’s dagger. The two were similar enough that the King—or the Prince, or even Hoseok—wouldn’t know the difference. Wouldn’t know that Yoongi wasn’t carrying his own blade.

Because that was grounds for Yoongi’s death.

And he wasn’t quite ready to die, not before he had actually put his plan into action.

_War is coming. Eliria and Sivalia and Eishta are meeting soon to discuss their war on Kazir. The Shadow Crown will fall. You get to choose which side you stand on._

Yoongi straightened when he heard the voice echoing in his head. He swallowed, trying to calm his heart, before he nodded once. “I know where my loyalties lie, as do you.”

 _I know where you think your loyalties lie. I know that you think you’ll be capable of doing what you’re planning on doing. I just don’t entirely believe you._ Yoongi stiffened, as he walked back to his desk, sitting down behind it. _You know that I won’t let anyone get in my way._

“I’m well aware of that.”

 _And are you aware that that_ anyone _includes your precious Hoseok?_

A tidal wave of rage washed through Yoongi’s mind, body, soul, and a moment later, the connection between him and Yixing had shattered. He could feel Yixing probing, trying to remake it, trying to get back into Yoongi’s mind, unsure of what exactly had happened, but Yoongi gritted his teeth, very firmly sealing him out.

He had a choice to make, and he didn’t particularly like either of the options that he’d been given.

The country comes first.

The country comes first.

The country always comes first. Always. Without hesitation, the country was always the first priority. Protect Kazir, protect the Crown, protect the Blades, protect yourself, those were the duties that Yoongi had been given, in that order.

Very few people ever strayed from those duties. Jiyong had been one of those few, and the Crown would see him dead for it. Yoongi, and the King, and the Prince, and Hoseok.

 _Your duty is to Kazir first. Kazir first, Kazir always. Losing sight of that duty is the first step to your destruction_.

Yoongi could practically hear the King reciting the mantra to him, back when he had first tasked Yoongi with the creation of the Shadow Blades. Long before Yoongi had ever gone to Eliria, as the false commander within the Iron Crow, when he had just barely stepped out of the Academy and through the palace gates.

Kazir first, Kazir always.

Yoongi had heard it often, had probably said it more. He had trained it into all of his Blades, had all but burned it into their minds. They served him, yes, but before they served him, they served the country. The country, the Crown, the Commander.

Kazir first, Kazir always.

His choice should have been easy. It should have been made without a shred of doubt, without a shred of regret. Because Yoongi knew where his loyalties lay, he knew who—and what—he served, and he knew why.

He, and all of his Blades, knew why.

“Yoongi?”

“Hoseok.”

Hoseok was hovering in the doorway, eyes on Yoongi. He looked worried. “Are you—”

“I’m fine.”

His words left no room for argument. After a few moments, Hoseok nodded, then slipped away, closing the door as he went. Yoongi sighed, then put his head in his hands, trying to will the tension in his shoulders away.

Kazir first, Kazir always.

Only problem was, if Yoongi put Kazir first, just like he was supposed to, just like he had been taught to, just like his duty and his Crown mandated, just like he _should have_ , then Hoseok would die.

And that, Yoongi couldn’t allow.

That realization hit him square in the chest, and he looked up quickly. The door was shut. He was alone. He was safe, here, in his office, and he knew that.

Hoseok.

His favorite.

His best.

The only one, as Yoongi had said on a number of occasions, who might have been capable of taking over the Blades if Yoongi were ever killed. The only one who Yoongi would have trusted with that duty.

Ironically, the only Blade not from Kazir was the one whose loyalty Yoongi had never once questioned. The only one that Yoongi really, truly, genuinely trusted.

His pretty Raven.

His vicious Shadow.

He would not die, not if Yoongi could do anything about it, and he could. He knew that. He was strong enough, he could protect Hoseok if it came down to it. And if the King found out that Yoongi had chosen Hoseok over the country, so what? The King was, unfortunately, going to have a few more pressing matters than Yoongi and Hoseok on his hands soon enough.

Hoseok first.

Hoseok always.

Yoongi sat back in his seat, squaring his shoulders. It was decided, then. He knew what he had to do.

***

When Kyungsoo woke up, Jongin was gone.

That was unusual, for a few reasons. First and foremost, because Jongin usually slept through the night. If he didn’t, it was because something was very wrong. Second, because Jongin enjoyed being tangled up in Kyungsoo’s arms. And third, because Jongin didn’t like to wake Kyungsoo by squirming out of his grip.

But this morning, Kyungsoo woke alone.

He sat up slowly, looking around the room for a few moments, just long enough to acknowledge that Jongin wasn’t in the room. His brow furrowed, and he slid to his feet, running his hands through his hair. There were still clothes—both his and Jongin’s—scattered across the floor of the room, and Kyungsoo pulled his pants on.

It was still early in the morning. Disgustingly early, even for Kyungsoo. So early that it was still very dark outside, dark enough that he would have guessed that he had barely slept an hour, if he hadn’t been able to feel the sleep in his muscles.

The door opened a moment later, and he looked up quickly, found Jongin standing in the doorway. He was clothed, which was… not completely unusual, but it meant that he had been up for more than a few seconds. He smiled, then stepped inside and closed the door, before he spoke, his voice quiet, rough with exhaustion. “Sorry.” Kyungsoo shrugged one shoulder, and after a few seconds, Jongin crossed the room slowly, wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo, hugging him tightly. “I just—sleeping was hard.” Kyungsoo hummed softly, then slid a hand into Jongin’s hair, pulling him down to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I needed to think.”

“It’s okay.” He kissed Jongin’s cheek. “Let’s go back to bed, though, alright? It’s early.”

“Okay.” Jongin allowed Kyungsoo to pull him towards the bed. “Can you take your pants off, please?” Kyungsoo snorted, as they crawled onto the bed, then shoved his pants off, pulling Jongin against his chest, hitching a leg over his waist. “I love you very much.”

“And I love you.” Kyungsoo kissed his temple, then tucked Jongin’s head into his neck. Jongin was humming quietly to himself, and Kyungsoo smiled, fingers trailing across Jongin’s bare back gently. “How do you feel, about this whole… war business?”

Jongin didn’t answer for a few moments. When he did speak, the worry and fear in his voice was clear. “I—it’s our only choice. You and I both know that, Sehun and Luhan both know it, Joonmyun and Kris and Jongdae and Minseok all know it, I’m willing to bet that Yixing, if he knows about this war, knows that it’s inevitable. None of us are stupid enough to believe that we can get out of this without a fight.”

Kyungsoo hummed softly, then kissed the top of Jongin’s head. “You and I both also know that that didn’t answer my question in the slightest.”

Jongin snorted quietly. “No, it didn’t.” He laughed, then snuggled closer to Kyungsoo. “Between the three of our nations, we… our odds aren’t the worst that they could be.” He paused, teeth sinking into Kyungsoo’s skin for a split second before he withdrew. “That said, this is Kazir that we’re fighting. Our odds still _suck_.”

“Mm.”

“This war is going to suck, for everyone involved. For us, for Eliria, for Eishta, for Kazir, even. Strategically speaking, you know, we have the numbers, but we’ve always had the numbers on our side, and that’s never stopped Kazir from thoroughly destroying the rest of the Empire.” Kyungsoo’s nails were dragging gently across Jongin’s back. “But I think… our chances are better now than they were six months ago. And it helps that we’re, you know, not alone in this fight. We have Eishta and Eliria on our side, and Yixing and Zitao, when they get here, and maybe, you know, if we can find them, Jiyong and Seunghyun.”

“Those last two will be particularly advantageous, I think. They know Kazir’s secrets.” Jongin hummed quietly, nosing at Kyungsoo’s jaw. “The Shadow Crown will not fall easily, as you know. You’ve interacted with them—with the King, especially—once before. You know that he does not take well to having his hand forced. He will not take this war nicely.”

“He’s not going to play nice, is he?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I have no doubt that he’s going to play very, _very_ dirty.” A pause, as Kyungsoo shifted slightly. “But that means that we have no reason to play nice, either. Which will be, I think, a welcome change from what we are used to. Our Kings aren’t fond of fighting dirty.”

They lapsed into silence, deep in thought.

When Jongin spoke again, his voice was soft. “I’m glad that Joonmyun is here.”

“Mm.”

Jongin smiled against Kyungsoo’s chest, laughing softly when Kyungsoo’s breath hitched. “He’s—I mean, we’ve had our issues, you and I both know that. But he’s also… he’s very smart, when you get past the… the lack of a filter. He doesn’t like to flaunt it, in fact, he pretends to be as stupid as he can possibly get away with, as a Prince—King, now—but he is very smart.”

“I know, precious. I was raised with him.”

“I—oh. I forgot.” Kyungsoo chuckled softly, then ran his fingers through Jongin’s hair. “What was that like?”

“Oh, it was… it was something else, that’s for sure. He was just as loud then as he was before he met Kris—just as loud as he is _now_ , I suppose. It’s not like he’s gotten quieter.” Kyungsoo paused, stroking Jongin’s back gently. “Of course, I spent more time with Sehun than I did with Joonmyun, but that was for a very good reason. He and I were not the greatest of friends.”

“Really?”

“I think that was, in part, my fault. He is the way he is—loud and obnoxious—because he needed to be, if he wanted attention. And I—I could have been a very good friend to him, but I wasn’t.”

A moment of silence, then Jongin shot upright, into a seated position. “Did you hear that?”

Kyungsoo glanced around quickly. “I—what? No, I didn’t hear anything—”

Before he could finish speaking, Jongin had vanished from the bed. He reappeared at the window a moment later, and glanced outside, going pale. “Put your pants on, Kyungsoo. We have company.” He reached for the latch, and undid it quickly, before pulling the window open, and leaning out. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

A moment later, then Kyungsoo heard a familiar voice from outside the window. “Well, we came to see the Crown, but—well, we could hardly go through the city, they aren’t exactly fond of my people, especially not now.” A few seconds, passed, then Jongin reached down, to help the speaker—it was Jiyong, that was where Kyungsoo had heard that voice before—through the window. Seunghyun was right behind him. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s… this is just… unexpected, I guess.” Jongin looked back at Kyungsoo, who had managed to pull on a pair of pants. “I—will you go and get the Kings, please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in like 3 days? Madness.


	7. Chapter 7

Kris closed the door behind him after he directed Minseok into the room, eyes finding Joonmyun on the other side of the room. He was standing by the window, speaking quietly to Sehun, but when the door closed, he fell silent, glancing at Kris for a split second. His eyes were back on Sehun in a moment, and after a few seconds, he nodded, before straightening and starting towards the table in the center of the room. There was a map spread out upon it, delicate silver figurines scattered across it.

Sehun came to stand at one end of the table, Kyungsoo standing off to his right. Jongin stood at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, gaze focused on the table. Kris’ eyes landed on the mark on Kyungsoo’s neck for a moment, before his gaze was shunted away by some unseen force. Kyungsoo was on edge, then, enough that he was losing control of his true nature.

Not that Kris blamed him, for being on edge. They all were.

Kris was standing opposite Sehun, and after a few moments, Joonmyun came to stand beside him, touched his hand to Kris’ elbow for a moment. Minseok and Jongdae stood not far away; Baekhyun and Chanyeol were hovering by the doorway.

Jiyong stood at the table, a few feet from Joonmyun. Seunghyun was off to the side of the room, leaning against the wall, watching Jiyong closely. 

“Has anyone heard from Yixing?”

Luhan spoke quietly, as he came to stand on Sehun’s other side. Sehun glanced at him, then placed a hand on the small of his back, stroking gently. “We’ll find him.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted to know. I want to know if anyone’s heard from him. I want to know if anyone has heard from or seen my brother,” Luhan snapped, stepping away from Sehun automatically. He looked around for a moment, and when he met Kris’ gaze, the anger in his eyes faded into fear.

“We haven’t. As far as I’m aware, no one has seen them since they walked into those mountains all that time ago.” Kris paused, examining the map for a moment, before looking at Luhan again. “But he and Tao are both more than capable of taking care of themselves. They’ll be okay.”

Luhan exhaled quietly, shoulders slumping. He braced his hands on the table, leaning against it for a few moments, before he turned away, and walking towards the window. Sehun watched him go, then looked at Kyungsoo. “Go on.”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, looking at Jongin. “It was your plan. Why don’t you take over?”

“I—are you sure?”

Kyungsoo smiled, then nodded once. “You’re more than capable.” He nodded towards the table, then took a step back. Jongin exhaled quietly, then squared his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I—it was hardly my idea, it was mostly Jiyong, but I guess… I guess I was part of it.” He glanced back at Kyungsoo, worrying his lip between his teeth for a few seconds. “Jiyong mentioned that the… the people of Kazir, I guess, or at the very least, the Crown, is very, very strong when they’re together. United. But when they’re apart, they aren’t.” He looked at Jiyong, who shot him a tight smile. “So, uh… I mean, obviously that means that we have to take them apart piece by piece, but we… Kyungsoo and I, we weren’t really sure how to make that happen, because Kazir is… incredibly well-defended.”

Jiyong snorted quietly, then leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, eyes on Jongin. “That’s one way of putting it.” He glanced around for a moment. “My father is paranoid. He has planned for every single possible outcome, every possible attack. There isn’t a thing in this world that he doesn’t have a plan for.”

“He can’t have planned for _everything_. There has to be something—”

Jiyong stopped Minseok with a look. “There’s not.” Minseok opened his mouth to speak again, but Jiyong continued before he could. “Minseok, you’ve met the man, what, four times, in your life? I _lived_ with him, for more than two decades.”

Minseok exhaled furiously, and Jongdae placed a hand on his forearm, before he looked at Jongin. “So, what’s the plan? If we can’t possible do something that he’s not prepared for—”

“The King is prepared for everything, but his son is not. The people that he _trusts_ are not.”

They all looked up at once when they heard someone speak from the doorway. Yixing was standing there, hands resting on the doorframe. His jaw was clenched, anger written across his face and in the line of his shoulders. After a few moments, he stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him, before he approached them.

“Where’s Tao?”

Yixing looked at Minseok for a few seconds. “It’s a long story, I’ll explain later, but he’s safe. He’s fine.” He came to stand by Jongin, eyes on the map. “I’ve been in contact with Yoongi, the Shadow Blade. Their leader.” After a few moments, Luhan turned, eyes locking onto Yixing. “Tides are turning in Kazir, and they are not turning in the Crown’s favor.”

“What do you mean, you’ve been in contact with him?”

Yixing looked over at Joonmyun, smiling blandly. “He is not as loyal to Kazir as we once believed. He has made his choice.”

“And how do you know that he’s not lying?” Joonmyun snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “How do you know that this isn’t some sort of elaborate trick that Kazir has dreamed up? You said yourself, the King is prepared for everything. You think he’s not prepared for this?”

“I think,” Yixing paused, considering Joonmyun closely. “that we don’t get to be picky about who our allies are. You didn’t like allying with Eliria or Eishta, but I was right about that, too, wasn’t I? Is it really so difficult to believe that I would be right about this?” Yixing held his gaze for a few more long moments, before he looked at Kris. “We’re going to have to fight Kazir, regardless of who we ally ourselves with. We might as well give ourselves some sort of advantage, not,” he looked at Jiyong, “to say that having you on our side isn’t an advantage already.”

“I know what you meant,” Jiyong said.

“That doesn’t change the fact that Yoongi works for the _Shadow Crown_. You’ve given me absolutely no reason to believe that we should trust him. The fact of the matter is, I _don’t_ , and none of us _should_.”

“Joonmyun—”

Joonmyun looked at Kris, eyes furious. “No. He is asking us to _sacrifice our people_ , in this war, which is infuriating enough, but he’s also asking us to _trust_ someone like Yoongi with their lives.”

“No, Joonmyun, I’m asking you to trust _me_.” Yixing’s hand slammed down on the table, upsetting some of the figurines on the map. Minseok shot him a warning look, and Yixing exhaled slowly, before he straightened. “I’m sorry. But we can’t afford to be picky right now.”

Jongin cleared his throat. “He’s right, your Majesty.” Joonmyun turned to glare at Jongin, who visibly flinched, but didn’t back down. “Our odds aren’t good. They’re incredibly terrible, if you want to be technical, but the point is, we’re already going to be cutting this fucking close.”

“Oh, go—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Kyungsoo murmured, sliding an arm around Jongin’s waist. “Don’t you _dare_ finish that sentence, Joonmyun.” He hugged Jongin against his side. “I trust Yixing. I trust his decision on this, and if his choice is to trust Yoongi, then I’m going to go along with it.”

He looked at Sehun for a moment after he finished, then back at the map. They lapsed into silence for a few long, drawn out moments. Some dark and unseen presence had settled over them, nettling at the backs of their minds. After a long minute, Jongin glanced at Kyungsoo, then pulled away from him. “I’m going to check in with the Commanders.”

He slipped out of the room, and after a second, Kris sighed, then followed after him, closing the door harder than was necessary. Luhan turned, to stare after him, but didn’t move from where he was standing. He glanced at Yixing, who shot him a tight smile, before speaking. “Let him go. Let them work this out.”

Kyungsoo cleared his throat quietly, then looked at Minseok and Jongdae. Minseok nodded once, then wrapped his fingers around Jongdae’s wrist, leading him out of the room. Baekhyun and Chanyeol followed behind him a moment later, and slowly, the room emptied, until it was just Yixing and Kyungsoo standing at the table.

“Thank you.”

“I stuck out my neck for you. Don’t make me regret that.” Yixing nodded once. “Where is he really?” A moment passed, then Yixing looked away. “You said that he’s safe, but you and I both know that that isn’t true. Where is he?”

“He went to Kazir,” Yixing said quietly, voice rough. “I told him not to, I told him it was stupid, but he insisted. And he—he left while I was sleeping. I woke up one morning, and he was gone.” Yixing sounded choked up, and when Kyungsoo met his gaze again, he could see the tears in his eyes. “He’s alive, he’s… he’s actually quite safe, given the circumstances.”

“Where in Kazir?”

“In the palace. He’s—well, he’s in the dungeon, but I don’t think that the King has any plans to hurt him.” Yixing turned away from Kyungsoo and walked towards the window. “I think he’s far too focused on this war than he is on the prisoners beneath his palace.”

Something seemed to dawn on Kyungsoo. “The people in there… they—they’re people that the King deemed too powerful to walk freely, but too weak to bother killing?” Yixing nodded once. “We could use them.” Yixing glanced back at him, but didn’t say a word. “I mean, think about it. Most likely, they aren’t on the King’s side. And we—we need all the help we can get, Yixing.”

Yixing turned slowly, then put his hands in his pockets. “You have a point. The problem is going to be actually _getting_ into the dungeon.”

“We have Jongin. He can get us in, a few of us, at least.” Kyungsoo folded his arms over his chest, then started towards the door. “I’ll talk to Sehun and Minseok.”

“If you see my brothers—”

“I’ll send them in here.”

***

Yixing had never, before this moment, wished that he had Jongin’s Gift. But now, as he found himself staring into Minseok’s angry, burning, hate-filled silver eyes, he very desperately wished he was able to escape the confrontation.

He knew exactly what Minseok was furious about. He had known what the consequence of showing up here without Zitao would be; Minseok had made his thoughts on their relationship very, very clear; if Zitao got hurt, Yixing would pay for it, with his life, if necessary.

“Your Majesty—”

“You swore to me.” Yixing opened his mouth to speak, but Minseok stopped him with a look. “You swore to me, and to Jongdae, and to Baekhyun. You swore to all of us, on your life, that you would keep him safe. That you would protect him. That no _harm_ would come to him.”

“Minseok—”

Before Yixing knew what was happening, he was frozen to the wall, ice appearing out of nowhere and pinning him in place. When Minseok leaned in, he wrapped his fingers around Yixing’s jaw, and icy-cold pain burned through his skin. “If anything has happened to him, if any harm has befallen him, if he has been so much as _touched_ by our enemies, you will be the first to pay the price for it.”

“Yes, your—”

“If he is dead,” Minseok growled darkly, eyes now glowing, “I will destroy you. I will strip every ounce of joy and beauty and happiness out of your life. If I have my way—and I will—you will never have a glimmer of light in your life again. There is not a person in this world, nor a god beyond it, that will be able to protect you from my wrath, if Zitao is killed.”

“You think I don’t understand that?” Yixing whispered roughly, as Minseok’s hand slid down to wrap around his throat. “You think I don’t think about this every single day? Minseok, if I believed that I could walk into Kazir right now, and walk out with Zitao, without getting both of us killed, I would have done that. But the reality of the situation is, I can’t do that. That’s the one way to guarantee that he dies.” Minseok snarled, grip on Yixing tightening. “The only chance we have at getting him out alive is to go ahead with this plan.”

Minseok held his gaze for a moment, green locked on silver. In the back of his mind, Yixing was still terrified, but somehow, by some blessing of some god above, he managed to keep a brave face. “Swear to me.”

“It’s going to work. We will get him out alive. He will live.”

“I want your oath, Yixing.”

“You have my word. I swear, on the gods above, this plan will work, and Zitao will survive.”

“And I will hold you to it.”

Without another word, Minseok released him, and walked away, the ice faded just as quickly as it had appeared. Yixing remained where he was, leaning against the wall, for a few moments, before straightening up. He glanced down the hallway after Minseok, then turned and walked the other way.

He started when Jungguk came around the corner quickly, hands coming up to grip Jungguk’s shoulders when he stumbled. Jungguk yelped softly, hand instinctually going to something hidden beneath his jacket, but he managed to catch himself in time. “I—sorry, Yixing, I—I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Something on your mind, Jungguk?”

Jungguk opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, shaking his head once. Liar. Yixing didn’t have to be able to read emotions to know that he was hiding something. “No?”

“N-no.”

“Jungguk.”

“It’s _nothing_.” He paused, anger smoldering in his eyes. “Not that any of it would be any of your business even if it was something.”

“If it endangers us, then it is my business.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Tell me.”

“ _No_ ,” Jungguk spat, the fire in his eyes flashing. “I’m not like Zitao. I’m not your little _bitch_. And you most _certainly_ aren’t my King.”

He tried to shove away from Yixing, but Yixing didn’t release him. “Tell me.”

His voice was oddly gentle, and after a few moments, Jungguk exhaled. “I—it’s—it’s really nothing, Yixing—” He cut off a moment later, then tried again. “Can we not have this conversation in the hallway, please?” A beat of silence, then Yixing nodded, and turned on his heel, leading Jungguk down the hallway. They stepped into a small room off the hall, and Yixing closed the door behind them, then faced Jungguk. “It’s not—I’m not a _traitor_.”

“I don’t believe that you are,” Yixing murmured, holding Jungguk’s gaze. “No one thinks that you are. But you are hiding something, something that _matters_.”

A moment passed, then Jungguk nodded once. “I—it’s about Yoongi.” Yixing hummed quietly. “He—when I was in Kazir, when I went to see him, he—there was something in his mind. I don’t—I’m not good at the whole _reading_ thing that you and him can do, but I—I _know_ that there was something.”

“Mm.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know if it was _hesitation_ , so much as it was… it was _conflict_. And I’ve never… I’ve known him for years, Yixing, and I’ve never seen him conflicted.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

Jungguk shook his head. “He—I told you, I can’t read him.”

“Liar.”

“It’s—I’m not _lying_ , I can’t!”

“I believe that you can’t read him. I just don’t believe that you don’t know what caused his indecision,” Yixing said, voice quiet. He crossed the room and came to stand by the window. “What was it?”

Jungguk bit his lip, shoulders hunching slightly, almost like he wanted to curl up into a ball. He was scared. Yixing didn’t exactly blame him; he was sensitive enough as it was when it came to the subject of Yoongi. “I—how much do you know, about Kazir, and the Shadow Blades?”

“Not much. Incredibly little, if I’m being honest.”

Jungguk nodded slowly. “Okay. Well, I—you probably know that Yoongi is the leader of the Shadow Blades. He, um, when he left the Academy, in Kazir, the King summoned him, and he tasked him with creating and commanding the Shadow Blades.” Yixing nodded slowly, leaning back against the window. “So, Yoongi, he—he started collecting people. Mostly from the Academy, but there were some others. And they—they were trained, but before they could actually be trained as a Shadow Blade, they had to pass a test. And—well, everyone made it out to be a huge, terrifying thing, but it was just a question.”

A moment passed; Jungguk was waiting.

“What was the question?”

Jungguk inhaled slowly, holding Yixing’s gaze. “Why do you want to be one of us?”

Yixing hummed quietly. “And what was your answer?”

“I—I told Yoongi that I—well, actually, I didn’t get to answer the question. Yoongi had guessed both of my answers before I could give them. And he—he wasn’t satisfied with those answers. He said that I wasn’t ready, and he sent me away.” Jungguk frowned, eyes on the ground. “And he sent me away when I came back, a month later. And a month after that, he sent me away. Said I still wasn’t ready. Said that I didn’t have what it took.”

“Then how did you—”

“He didn’t take me on as a Blade willingly. He only allowed me to join because the King commanded it.” He reached for his blade, pulling it free. “I mean, I made it through everything. I—I mean, I wasn’t the greatest, in training, but I was better than most. And then I underwent the Trials, and I passed them—”

“What are the Trials?”

Jungguk flinched. “I—I actually… I think I’m bound by oath not to talk about them with people outside of the Blades. But I guess—it’s another Test, that we had to pass before we could claim our blades.” He flipped the dagger over in his hand. “Anyway, after I passed the Trials, I was allowed to actually join the Blades. Yoongi forged my dagger for me, and I served Kazir at his side.”

“Mm.”

“We take an Oath, when we claim our blade. And we—well. Part of the oath is a determination of our loyalties and where our priorities lie. The first is the country, then the Crown, then the Blades, then the self.”

Something seemed to click in Yixing’s mind. “Who?” Jungguk looked at him, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Which Shadow Blade was better than you in training?”

“I—it was Hoseok, why—”

“He and Yoongi, they were close, right?”

“They—yes, they still are, Hoseok is the only Shadow Blade who’s still alive and still loyal to Kazir, and to Yoongi.” Jungguk frowned, still trying to piece together what exactly Yixing was trying to say. “You don’t think that Yoongi—”

“Oh, I certainly do.” Yixing held out his hand, and after a moment, Jungguk held out his dagger. Yixing took it, examined it for a moment, then gave it back to him. “I think that Yoongi, as loyal as he is to Kazir, has been forced to rethink what it is that he holds dear. Because he—and I think he knows this very well—cannot save everything that he loves.”

“You think that he’d betray the King?”

“I think,” Yixing paused, examining his fingernails for a moment, “that people do very strange things when faced with the realization that they might lose someone that they love.”

“I imagine you know that from experience.”

“I imagine that I could say the same about you.” Jungguk opened his mouth to speak, but Yixing cut him off. “I saw the look in your eyes when you spoke about him. Besides, I can read your emotions. You love them.”

“I—”

“Perhaps not romantically, perhaps not in the way that I love Zitao, but you love them. They are your family, of course you love them.” Yixing held his gaze for a moment, then Jungguk looked away quickly. “I don’t blame you for that. I don’t resent you for that. I know what it’s like, to love someone who serves another Crown.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re so very welcome.” A moment passed, then Yixing started back towards the door. “We should get back to the others.”

“I—Yixing?”

“Mm.”

“When you—when you and Tao weren’t—you know, together. When he was still part of Eishta.” Yixing nodded once. “How did you deal with the guilt?”

Yixing held his gaze. In them, Jungguk could see his own pain reflected. “You have to remember,” he paused, as he came to stand in front of Jungguk, placing his hands on his shoulders. “that we are not the Crowns that we serve. Loving someone from the other side does not change our loyalties. You can love someone, and continue to serve your country, at the same time.” He squeezed Jungguk’s shoulders gently. “It is not always necessarily to choose, in the way that Kazir made you choose.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uuuh. sorry this took so long.

When Hoseok entered his bedroom, he froze in the doorway, eyes landing on Yoongi, who was standing at the window. Yoongi looked back at him for a moment, then turned back to the window, shoulders visibly tense. Youngbae was standing not far away from him, watching Hoseok with a strange look in his eyes. He spoke a moment later, voice quiet. “Have a seat.”

“I—what’s this about?”

Youngbae sighed quietly, then pointed at the chair without a word. Hoseok held his gaze for a few more seconds, then obeyed, sitting down in the chair in his room. Yoongi turned again, leaning back against the wall, his gaze on the floor at his feet. “ _This_ is about that situation that you and I discussed the other day.”

“Oh.” Hoseok shifted awkwardly, folded his arms over his chest. “What about it?”

“You don’t think anything of it?” Youngbae asked. Hoseok shook his head once, and Youngbae hummed quietly. “You don’t think it has anything to do with what’s happening in Sivalia?”

“I—what’s happening in Sivalia?”

Youngbae looked at Yoongi quickly, who cleared his throat. “I—I haven’t had a chance to tell him. We’ve both been busy.” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, and Hoseok could tell that his hand was resting on the hilt of his dagger. “Sivalia’s troops are preparing for battle.”

“Oh.”

Yoongi nodded once. “Oh, indeed.” He glanced over at Youngbae for a moment, then spoke again. “So are Eishta and Eliria. We—well, we have every reason to believe that they’re planning on engaging in a war against Kazir.” Yoongi held Hoseok’s gaze for a few moments, then looked at Youngbae. “Our armies are beginning to arm themselves, but that’s going to take some time. As the plan stands,” Yoongi paused, glancing at the window for a moment. “well, I don’t know that the King particularly _likes_ my plan, but he seems to have enough faith in me to go ahead with my plan.” He walked towards Hoseok. “I want you to go to Sivalia and meet with the Kings.”

“I—you want me to _what_?” Hoseok blurted the words out without thinking, then snapped his mouth shut a moment later, blushing furiously. “I’m—I’m sorry, I just—I really don’t think that I’m particularly qualified for that, I’m just—”

Yoongi shut him up with a look, a scathing glance that wasn’t hard to read: _we’ll talk about this later. Not in front of the future King._ He turned back to Youngbae without a word. “Hoseok will go to Sivalia and meet with the Crowns. Do I believe that they can be convinced to call this off? Not necessarily. But we do have an obligation to exhaust every option before war.”

“I agree with you, Yoongi, you know that I trust your judgement, but I don’t think my father has the _patience_ for something like that. He won’t _wait_ for a solution to be reached, if one can be reached at all. You of all people know that he has a tendency to go to war first and ask questions later.” Yoongi nodded once. “If you want to send Hoseok, then send him. I just wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Youngbae turned on his heel and walked out of the room a moment later, leaving them alone. As soon as he was gone, and the door was closed behind him, Hoseok shot to his feet, so he could be at Yoongi’s eye level. “What are you _thinking_? I’m the last Shadow Blade that you have left, if we’re going to _war_ , then you need me here!”

“Hoseok—”

“Don’t take that _tone_ with me, you think I don’t know what that tone means? I’m not _stupid_ , you always say my name like that when you’re trying to talk me out of something, when you’re trying to convince me to do what you say!”

Yoongi sighed quietly. “Hoseok, I shouldn’t have to _convince_ you. I’m your commander, I give the orders and you _obey_ them.”

“When have I _ever_ disobeyed? You and I both know that I always follow your orders, because I know that what you say is the right thing to do. You and I both know that I wouldn’t be _arguing_ against this if I didn’t know that this was wrong.” Hoseok stepped closer, fingers wrapping around Yoongi’s forearm. “Yoongi, _please_.”

“Hoseok,” the word was gentle, and Yoongi’s hands came up to grip Hoseok’s shoulders gently. “listen to me.” Hoseok opened his mouth to say something, but Yoongi shook his head once. “No, Hoseok, _listen_. I need you to go to Sivalia, in my place. I need you to do what you can to talk them out of this war. For as much as the King is convinced that we can win any war, some of us—those of us who actually have to deal with the technical side of war and battle—know the truth.” Hoseok nodded slowly, eyes still wide. He looked like he might cry. “Do I need to make it a real, true order, Hoseok?”

Hoseok inhaled quietly, then shook his head. “No. No, I’ll do it.” He was still clinging to Yoongi. “And when they go to war while I’m alone in Sivalia? What am I supposed to do when they turn on _me_ , and I’m left alone, Yoongi?”

“They won’t kill you. You’ll survive the war, unless you do something really stupid.” Yoongi leaned in closer, examining Hoseok’s face. “And when the war is over, I will come for you. I will get you out of there, if they don’t let you go. I’m not going to let you rot in a Sivalian prison.”

“Promise?”

He sounded so very fragile. Yoongi smiled at him, then squeezed his shoulders gently. “I promise, Hoseok. You and I are going to be just fine. Okay?”

“I—yes. Okay.”

Yoongi held his gave for a few moments longer, then released him, breaking out of Hoseok’s grip easily. “You’re going to do perfectly, because that’s what I’ve trained you to do. And I think,” he paused, as he crossed the room, towards the door. “that they’re going to take this better than the King or Youngbae thinks they will.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think that our King likes the idea of getting his war. He’s wanted it for a very long time, and this is his excuse to finally get it.” Yoongi paused at the door, hand on the handle. “I’ll be waiting for you when you return. And if you’re not back by the end of the moon cycle, I’ll come looking for you, you have my word. Alright?”

“I—yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Good luck. Take care of yourself, Hoseok. Come back safely.”

“I will,” Hoseok whispered, voice rough, as Yoongi left the room. When the door shut behind him, Hoseok swallowed, lower lip trembling, and he sat back on the bed, burying his head in his hands. “Fuck.” He reached for his dagger, which was strapped against his chest, and pulled it free, examining the blade closely. He needed to get himself under control. There was no reason for him to be as emotionally volatile as he felt, and if Youngbae or the King was aware of it, he would be in trouble. They didn’t like volatility.

Yoongi was doing this for a reason. Hoseok just wished that he knew what it was. If he had, he probably would have felt a lot better about this whole idea. But Yoongi was hiding something from him, and that put Hoseok on edge. He didn’t recall a time that Yoongi had ever kept secrets from him; even back when Hoseok had been in training, Yoongi had been upfront and honest with him, about everything that this job entailed.

“Get yourself together. You have a job to do; Kazir and the King and Youngbae and Yoongi are all depending on you, and you cannot fail them.” Hoseok’s fingers clenched into a fist around the handle of his dagger. “You can do this. For your country, and your Crown, and your—your Commander, you can do this. You are more than capable. There is nothing stopping you from doing this properly; Yoongi has entrusted you with this, and you will not—cannot—fail him.”

“Hoseok?” He startled when someone knocked on the door, then straightened, blinking half-formed tears away. “Who are you talking to?”

“I—no one, Yoongi. Myself.”

A beat of silence, then: “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I’m fine.” Yoongi was still standing outside the door, Hoseok was more than aware of that. “I’m just, you know, trying to—you know.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Hoseok could hear his breathing, soft and regulated, just outside the door. “Can I come in, Hoseok?” Hoseok nodded slowly, then winced when he realized that Yoongi couldn’t see him. He’d have to speak, but he didn’t quite trust his voice not to betray him. “Hoseok?”

“Yes. Yes, you can come in.” He wiped at his cheeks quickly, head bowed. He heard the door open, heard Yoongi enter the room, then shut the door behind him. Yoongi crossed the room slowly, then crouched in front of Hoseok, placing his hands on his knees gently.

“Hoseok?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Hoseok snapped angrily, wincing internally. He hadn’t meant that. Guilt coiled in his stomach, but he fought to keep his face neutral. “I’m fine.”

A moment passed, then Yoongi grabbed Hoseok’s hands, prying his fingers off of the dagger and setting the blade aside. “Hoseok, don’t lie to me. Don’t you ever lie to me.” His grip was loose on Hoseok’s hand, but he was more than aware of it, of the feel of Yoongi’s skin pressed against his. “You’re not okay. You’re not _fine_. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Then you know that I don’t, for a second, believe that you’re fine.” His voice was quiet, strangely fond, and it made Hoseok’s chest ache. “Will you tell me?”

“Why are you sending _me_? You know that I’m not—I’m _built_ for combat, I’m made to _fight_ and kill and all that, not… not _talk_ , I don’t possibly have the talent or skill or capability to stop a war with my _words_.” His voice was trembling, and he could feel the knot in his throat tightening. “Why _me_?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you, Hoseok, just how fond I am of you.”

“I—what?”

Yoongi squeezed Hoseok’s hand gently, then released him, sat back on his heels. “I trust you, more than I have ever trusted another person. More than the King, more than the Prince, more than any of the other Blades, that much is certain.” He took Hoseok’s dagger into his hands, holding it between them. “You are the best, of my Blades. There was a reason that I took you in, despite everything that the King said about you. There was a reason that I spoke in your defense, when you were accused of being a traitor. There was a reason,” Yoongi flipped the blade over in his hands. “that I gave you this. And maybe I told the King that I chose you for your capabilities, and perhaps that is, at least, partially true, but there is far more to it than that.”

“I—I don’t understand. Yoongi—”

“I am sending you to keep you safe. I am sending you because the battle, the _war_ is coming here. It is coming to Kazir, to us. It won’t be in Sivalia.” Hoseok opened his mouth to speak, but Yoongi shook his head once. “Is it starting to make sense?”

“I—you want me safe.”

“I do. Do you understand why?”

“N-not really?”

Yoongi nodded once, then reached for Hoseok’s hands, taking them into his own. “If anything were to happen to you,” he paused, examining Hoseok’s face. “it would destroy me. I need you safe, if I am to be of any use to my King. This is the only way for me to do that.”

“ _Yoongi_.” Hoseok squeezed Yoongi’s hands. “I—that’s not _fair_.”

“I know—”

“What about _you_?” Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but Hoseok spoke before he could. “What if _you_ die, Yoongi? What am _I_ supposed to do if you die? You think that wouldn’t destroy _me_?”

“Hoseok—”

“I won’t do it. I _won’t_ do it. I’m not going to _leave_ you.” He paused, trying to steady his breathing. “I have followed you for so fucking long, you can’t just—you can’t _do_ this to me, this isn’t—I’m not going to let this fucking happen.”

“Hoseok, you have to.”

“If I have to go, then you have to go with me.” The steadiness of Hoseok’s voice surprised him. “That’s it. That’s my decision. I’m going with you, or not at all. I won’t go to Sivalia alone.” He squared his shoulders. “You—don’t look at me like that, I know what that look means.”

“I have duties here that must be attended to. I need to be here. I need to be here, I need someone in Sivalia, and I need you safe. Do you understand my dilemma?”

“I—yes, yes, I do, I’m not _dumb_ ,” Hoseok said, petulant and angry. “But I—Yoongi, I need—I need you safe, too.”

Yoongi smiled at him, and Hoseok very much wanted to punch that look off of his face. “And I will be. I told you, I’ll come find you. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“You can’t _know_ that. You can’t possibly know that.” Yoongi hushed him quietly, squeezing his hands. “There’s no way that you can honestly tell me that you’re not going to get hurt.” Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but Hoseok shook his head quickly. “I’m perfectly aware of how selfish I sound, but I—Yoongi, I can’t leave you. I can’t.”

“Hoseok—”

“No. _No_.” Hoseok leaned forward, glaring into Yoongi’s eyes. “I. Won’t. Leave.”

Yoongi sighed, then grabbed him by the hair, pulling him close, foreheads pressing together. “Hoseok, let me make something explicitly clear for you: you will go to Sivalia. You will negotiate the end of this war. You will do as you are told. That is an order. Do you understand me?”

And just as quickly as that furious fire had lit inside of Hoseok, it died, the glint in his eyes gone before Yoongi had been sure that it was there. “I—y-yes. I understand.” Yoongi released him, and Hoseok sat back, blinking at him. He looked lost, confused. “Yoongi?”

“Hoseok.”

“Will you… can I—”

“What do you want, pretty Shadow?”

Hoseok’s breath hitched, teeth catching on his lower lip. When he exhaled, his breath blew Yoongi’s bangs back slightly. Hoseok stared at him in silence for a few moments, lost in his dark eyes. “I want—”

“Mm? Tell me, Raven. I want to know.”

Hoseok sucked in a slow breath, then, without spending much time thinking about it, leaned in. He pressed a brief, chaste kiss to Yoongi’s mouth, eyes falling shut. His hands came up, to cradle Yoongi’s jaw, and after a moment, Yoongi wrapped his fingers around Hoseok’s wrists. He didn’t pull Hoseok’s hands away, even if he could have.

When Hoseok pulled back slightly, he was still holding onto Yoongi. He blinked his eyes open slowly, and when their gazes locked, Yoongi was smiling sadly at him. Hoseok stared at him in silent for a few seconds, then opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, though, Yoongi leaned forward, their mouths sealing together again. He pushed Hoseok’s hands down, pinning them to the bed. When he pulled back, Hoseok was staring at him, eyes wide. “Oh, Hoseok.”

“Yoongi—”

“Shh. Don’t speak.” Yoongi kissed him again, still gripping his wrists tightly. He pulled away a moment later, and Hoseok let out a soft, involuntary noise. “Hush, pretty one. Hush.”

“I just—”

“Don’t say what’s on your mind. Don’t,” he murmured quietly, then kissed Hoseok’s forehead. “say it. Do you understand?” Hoseok nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. Yoongi could see tears on his eyelashes. “Hey, now, don’t cry.”

“’m not, it’s just—”

“Hoseok, please don’t. Please don’t do that to yourself.”

“Yoongi, please—”

Yoongi silenced him by kissing him again, then slid into his lap, pinning Hoseok in place. “No. Now is not the time or the place.”

“Okay.”

“Kiss me again.” Hoseok complied, pressing a gentle kiss to Yoongi’s mouth. “You have work to do.” Hoseok whined quietly, squirming underneath Yoongi. “ _No_. You have things to do, that do not involve kissing me. I need you to go to Sivalia.”

“But I don’t—”

“Want to?” Hoseok shook his head once. “I don’t really care. You’re going to.”

“I—yes, sir.”

“When I come and get you from Sivalia, you can kiss me as much as you want, I promise you that. But until then, this,” he paused, tilting Hoseok’s head to the side slightly before kissing him one last time. “stops. And I don’t think I have to tell you to keep all mentions of this incident to yourself.”

Hoseok shook his head once, and Yoongi hummed softly. “I’ll see you soon. I won’t get hurt. I promise.” He pulled Hoseok against his body, hugging him tightly, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Take care of yourself.”

“I always do.” Hoseok’s voice was hoarse, but he did a pretty good job of faking confidence in himself. “I’ll… I’ll be waiting for you?”

“You’d better be, little Raven.”

***

Jiyong woke up alone. 

He sat up slowly, looking around. He was still in the Sivalian palace, still in the bedroom that he and Seunghyun were sharing, still in _bed_. But there was something in the back of his mind, something that didn’t quite feel right.

After a moment, he slipped out of bed, reaching underneath his pillow to grab his dagger. As his fingers curled around the hilt, the shadows in his peripheral vision shifted slightly, and he stilled. A moment passed, then he turned slowly, eyes finding the dark corner of the room. A beat of silence followed, then Jiyong straightened, shifting his grip on the blade.

He could hear footsteps, out in the hallway. Familiar footsteps, a pattern that Jiyong had heard before.

A pattern that he desperately didn’t want to hear, in this moment.

As the footsteps reached the door, the shadows in the corner shifted, and that was when Jiyong moved. He darted across the room, towards the door, colliding with the wood a few seconds later. He felt a force—a person—slam into his back, something cold and sharp glancing off of the skin of his neck.

“Jiyong?”

He turned the lock, before he spoke. “Stay out there.”

“What? Jiyong, what’s going on—”

“ _Stay_ out there. Please, Seunghyun.” A blade was pressed up against the back of his neck, now, and there was a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Jiyong twisted around, pressing back against the door, glaring up at his attacker. “I love you.”

“I—I love you, too; Jiyong, what—”

Jiyong watched as his attacker’s eyes moved towards the door, for the briefest moment, and he threw his fist forward, into the attacker’s chest. He stumbled back, and Jiyong dashed forward, shoving him back further, then swung his dagger through the air. It cut through the attacker’s shirt, then his skin, drawing blood.

Jiyong was on top of him a moment later, pinning him down with one hand. “I thought my father got my message.”

“Oh, he did, little Prince—” Jiyong punched him in the face, and the man grunted. “We all got the message, Jiyong. Your father doesn’t care about your revenge.”

“Well,” Jiyong paused, pressing his blade up against the man’s jaw. “I suppose I’ll just have to make him care.”

He lifted his blade into the air, but before he could plunge it down, the man grabbed him by the wrist, flipping him over onto his back. He wrenched Jiyong’s dagger free, tossing it aside, then leaned down, to speak quietly. “You’re out of practice, your Highness.” A moment later, he drew his own blades, lining them both up at Jiyong’s throat. “You used to be so powerful. A pity, I suppose, that you’ll never have that again.”

He pressed his blades forward, and Jiyong gritted his teeth as he felt them breaking his skin, drawing blood on his throat. He sucked in a sharp breath, straining against the man’s grip, but he couldn’t break free.

This was it, then.

He had always known that this was coming, but so soon? Well. Perhaps it was a little bit of a surprise.

It was a moment later that the man’s weight was forcefully removed from his body. Jiyong looked to his right quickly, to find two bodies rolling across the floor. When they came to a halt, Seunghyun was kneeling over the man, hand on the hilt of Jiyong’s dagger. The blade was buried into the man’s chest, and as Jiyong watched, he could see the life leaving the man’s body.

When Seunghyun looked at him, residual fury burned in his eyes. He got to his feet, and came towards Jiyong, holding out his dagger as he approached. Jiyong took it without a word, as he got to his feet. When he opened his mouth to speak, Seunghyun held up a hand, silencing him. “If you ever,” he paused, leveling Jiyong with a gaze that would have burned the bark off of trees. “try that with me again, if you _ever_ do that to me _again_ , Jiyong, I swear—”

“I’m sorry,” Jiyong blurted out. “I just—didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“And I didn’t want you to _die_ , you idiot.” He took Jiyong’s face in his hands, staring down at him. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Jiyong rose up on his toes, to press a kiss to Seunghyun’s mouth. “Where did you go?” And almost immediately, he could see Seunghyun’s face go blank, emotion fleeing his eyes. He was preparing to lie. “Seunghyun.”

“Yixing wanted to talk to me.”

That was a half-truth, but Jiyong kind of figured that that was all he was going to get out of his husband. “About the war.”

“No—well. Sort of.” Seunghyun took Jiyong’s hand and led him towards the bed. He sat down, and pulled Jiyong into his lap, cradling him against his chest. “It’s about Yoongi.”

“I—oh.”

“Have you heard about Yixing’s plan?” Jiyong shook his head once, leaning his head onto Seunghyun’s shoulder. “He wants to break into the dungeons and use the, you know, prisoners down there, against the King.” Jiyong made a quiet noise in his throat, then sat up straight.

“What does that have to do with Yoongi, other than that he’s in the same Palace?”

“A lot of people are going to get killed. You know more than I do about the people down there, but I know enough to know that everyone in there is in danger.” Jiyong nodded, as he twisted around, to straddle Seunghyun’s thighs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know that Yoongi isn’t our ally,” Jiyong murmured quietly, then kissed Seunghyun gently. “Our responsibility is not to protect him. It is to protect ourselves, and our friends.” He kissed Seunghyun again, then sat back slightly. “I know that you were his friend, and I know how hard this is for you already, but we cannot risk ourselves for him.”

“I know that.”

“You know that he’ll protect the King.” Jiyong’s voice was gentle, soothing. “You know that he’ll never side with anyone else. He’s more loyal to the Crown than anyone.”

“I know.” Seunghyun hugged Jiyong against his body, exhaling quietly. “It just… it doesn’t sit well for me. You’re right, he is—was—my friend.” Jiyong nodded slowly, pressing his face into Seunghyun’s neck.

“We’ll be okay.”

“We always are.”


End file.
